translation

At “exactly 9:50 p.m.,” the Arabic text read (and thus she dutifully translated), someone did something and so forth.

But the feeling was lost. The feeling that she sensed but left unwritten.

The part that couldn’t be translated. The part that made all of translation a hollow and surface and silly affair. All wrapped up in the so-called definition of things. And all so lacking in the meaning behind mere words.