But she could spoon-feed him shorba (soup), hold a cup of tea to his lips, and read to him from Father's small library—poetry, romantic and historical epics, even a few children's books . Nor had she ever seen anything like the scars. . Again my wife was on her back, this time on the floor. That whole day at work I was useless, I couldn't concentrate, my mind kept wondering what my wife was doing
But she could spoon-feed him shorba (soup), hold a cup of tea to his lips, and read to him from Father's small library—poetry, romantic and historical epics, even a few children's books . Nor had she ever seen anything like the scars. . Again my wife was on her back, this time on the floor. That whole day at work I was useless, I couldn't concentrate, my mind kept wondering what my wife was doing
But she could spoon-feed him shorba (soup), hold a cup of tea to his lips, and read to him from Father's small library—poetry, romantic and historical epics, even a few children's books . Nor had she ever seen anything like the scars. . Again my wife was on her back, this time on the floor. That whole day at work I was useless, I couldn't concentrate, my mind kept wondering what my wife was doing
