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Nasri Atallah: 'The Room'


The Room


The alarm clock went off and I ignored it for as long as I could, its piercing shriek revelling in the violation of my eardrums. It was too far away for me to hit the snooze button. I did that on purpose returning from a drunken night, placing the clock just out of reach. The relentless buzzing would eventually levitate me out of bed and over to the annoying little appliance, where I would smack it into pained silence. 

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The IWP Publishing Gallery hosts collections of new work curated by our colleagues worldwide.


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