Inner Inferno

A blank page stared at me from the monitor. Thoughts pounded as they raced to put words together. Twenty-six little building blocks were set to construct, but the alphabet refused to fall in place for a blasted paper. I smacked the keyboard and buried my face in my sweaty hands. I wanted to smoke. I directed myself away from the thought, lifting my head as I took a deep breath. I had promised to quit. After attending a few Islamic conferences, listening to various CDs, and spending time at...