As he perused a market selling everything from stolen children’s shoes to battered plumbing pipes, Mahmoud al-Jabri was surprised to find something familiar: his own book collection.
Among the collection was his first published work of poems, with his handwriting scrawled along the margins.
Even more shocking than seeing the book he had toiled for years to create was that the vendor wanted a paltry 5 shekels, or about $1, for it.
The salesman suggested using the pages for kindling.
“I was torn between two feelings,” he said, “laughter and bitterness.”
Persons:
Mahmoud al, Jabri, “, ”