The Chain
And so she sits and waits, her eyes fixed on the sky. She is waiting for a plane; a plane she knows won't pass by that particular bit of sky, but she stares anyway. And while she stares, a roll of prayers, small sentences and words of worship leave her lips, almost unnoticed.
After sometime, she is finally able to take a deep breath and rest her chin on her closed fist. Her eyes are still in the turquoise sky, as she sees one, two, three airplanes pass by. She knows it's none of those. But she keeps on waiting.