3 Quotes by I.J. Sarfeh

I sit on a foldaway chair at the lakeside, sipping hot cocoa and admiring the sunset behind distant clouds, pondering my next novel, which will be more truth than fiction. More memoir than tale. It will begin at the Third Garden and end here at Little Loch Broom, floating on a leaf over clear water, a bared soul visible to all those who would desire a glimpse of a childhood most extraordinary.

They dumped him in the orphanage as dust and dirt swirled in fierce desert winds howling like jackals. It was a day when hawks flew against the wind without making headway, hovering over him, preparing for the kill. As if he were their helpless prey. And that was how he felt. Helpless.

Winter passed, spring arrived, hope faded.