zainab was only twenty-and-one​ when she died of nothing. the doctors who saw her every week found that she was just fine. zainab once walked into a shop on main street and discovered that her grandma, also dead, had smelled like sage all along. zainab’s personality was borderline disordered. zainab was a wonderful friend who reached out to her loved ones inconsistently. zainab had too much to say and would have been better off quiet. boy, don’t we wish she had stayed quiet. zainab’s hands shook as she carried her coffee cup on its saucer towards her table at the cafe because she spoiled her nerves too quickly. it was typical of her to lose or break her things. she held her stomach as something tore inside and burned her skin trying to keep warm.