Creative writing

Step 6

St nº 8, Solaikat St, Hazarajat, Afghanistan

1982, March 3th

 Dear Hassan,

I know we haven't talked in a while, that is probably the main reason of why I’m writing this letter to you, I hope you can read this by now, or ask Ali to help you out. Here life has been hard, California is nice, but Baba has to work hard every day for us to eat and sleep under a roof in a warm bed, covered from the cold winter. In summer everything is different, people is out in the street, walking their dogs, playing under the sun, living happy and with no worries.

Baba i working in a gas station, or he was, before he got sick. It all started with a cold and a cough, then it got worse, he coughed blood once, and then I took him to the doctor. He started a scandal because the doctor Schneider was born in Russia, he lost it and pushed him back. Baba refused to take the treatment with him, so we had to look for another doctor. This one was Dr. Amani, an Iranian, Baba approver this time. After some long weeks the results of the exam were ready. They were not good, not good at all. Oat cell carcinoma advanced was detected, a type of Cancer with no cure, he would probably die soon. Baba didn't want to take the chemotherapy, anyways, the chemotherapy would only prolong the outcome, Baba will die anyway, either today or in a month, it could happen anytime, he looks terrible, is not going to work, he can't even woke up from bed. I called that time "The time of many firsts" it was the first time I heard Baba moaning in the bathroom, the first time I found blood in his pillow and the first time he called sick at work.

You know, not everything are sad stories, there are also good things going on here in America, I met a girl, she is the son of a Pashtun, here name is Soraya. After I met Soraya Taheri, every day of the week become Yelda for me. She has big brown eyes and her face is always in my mind. I’m waiting till I have the courage to go and talk to her, maybe I will give her one of my stories, she likes reading.

My friend, I can’t wait for the moment when we will be together again, so I could read all my stories to you as when we were children’s under that tree in Kabul. I hope that when that day comes me and Soraya Jan will be married, living here or in Afghanistan ¿Would you come to live with me if we go to Afghanistan? It is so sad that we had to separate too soon.

With this letter is also attached my favorite story written by my, it is a gift to you for all the years of friendship. I promise I will go for you to Hazarajat, and just if you want to we would have a life together as when we were kids.

The best of wishes. Amir