We Are the Flare

تَّقُوا دَعَوَاتِ الْمَظْلُومِ فَإِنَّهَا تَصْعَدُ إِلَى السَّمَاءِ كَأَنَّهَا شَرَارٌ

Beware of the supplication of the oppressed, for it ascends to Allah as if it were a flare.
Source: al-Mustadrak 118

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There in the wake, we mourned and held ceremony.

We waited for the sun to stretch her arms across the horizon before spreading out our dinner. Although the pain in our stomachs was nearly enough to double us over, all sharp and new in our sudden remembrance, we didn’t mind the wait. We were slower than expected at cooking, anyway. It’s harder to prepare food on an open flame than any of us remembered.

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