Writing is my life, and a writer is what I was born to be. I love it. There’s nothing I don’t love about writing. It’s all about me. What’s no... to love? But I do have to warn you, I have an unusual imagination. I view the world very differently than most people. I can assure you that at one point or another, you will not agree with me or what I’m doing. So be warned. Read at your own risk. A pen is shoved into my hand, and the front doors are opened. It’s noon, and thank god, there are people. The buzzer sounded as I entered. Behind the counter was a young Pakistani woman, our eyes met."Where's Mr Abbassi" I asked. "He's gone to visit family in Pakistan" "Are you his daughter" "Yes" "I see" She smiled. She had large brown eyes-framed by charcoal makeup, she wore a tight black t-shirt, and she had thick glossy black hair that flowed down to her lower-back. My eyes wandered along the shelves of wine, as I was reading the back of a bottle she came from behind the counter and started. More

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