Short things – حاجات قصيرة

All posts in the Short things – حاجات قصيرة category

Once Upon a Rock

Published April 5, 2015 by Dalia Hazem

Once upon a time, when  things were not known yet, when their names didn’t even exist and where an old planet in a dying galaxy was trying to leave its last imprint in this universe, a strange mountain with a strange rock on top of it stood alone on this planet. The rock was so huge, that nothing could remove it from its place for long ages, but every long age has its own end, no matter how long it lasted.

Dalia Hazem


Kleine Dinge 1

Published December 12, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

Sie kam es nicht umhin, den Labtop brutal zu brechen. Warum nicht denn? Das Leben ist ihr nicht mehr erträglich. Jemand muss dafür bezahlen. Und nicht sie, weil sie kein Geld hat. Lustig. Nein, nicht lustig. Ich behaupte, dass es lustig ist, während es sehr absurd wirkt.


Tiny Story 16

Published December 10, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

-“You are a good writer.”

-“No. It’s you. You are just a good reader. That’s it.”


Tiny Story 15

Published December 9, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

– “If there is one thing I learnt from the time I spent in this life that would be the ‘non-infinity’ of everything. Everything, no matter how long it lasts, is going to come to an end. Nothing lasts forever, so cheer up. Your problems are about to be over!”

– “They have just started! I don’t think ‘about to be over’ is the right way to express the situation.”

– “Things, when they begin, have in their minds only one aim: to come to an end. Beginning is nothing but a disguised end.”



Like a poem 1

Published December 5, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

You’re not human

You’re not a woman

You’re not the moon, not even the sun

You’re an infinity that will always run

You’re an entire galaxy

You embrace my little universe

You let my stars shine

Because I can’t do the reverse.






Another Story

Published December 4, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

There .. on the green grass and among those gray scary stones, she stood, like those gray stones, in silence in front of the grave.

In silence for a while .. until being done with pulling herself together.



Tiny Story 14

Published November 27, 2014 by Dalia Hazem

He inherited me his coldness.

I am as cold as him .. and maybe more.

I used to think being cold is good but I was wrong. I was absolutely wrong. Why?

I hear that someone is ill and I don’t react.

I know that someone is dead and I don’t even blink.

You think I am happy for that? I am not.

Because .. because this is not N.O.R.M.A.L!

This is not human.

I don’t want to look like a human an feel like a dead piece of wood! It hurts.

Dalia Hazem


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