A Different Woman
A Short Story
4 min readJun 19, 2019
“You eat with your hands?” I asked, surprised that Nayla would risk getting her fingers messy in what appeared to be an upscale restaurant.
“You don’t?” she smiled at me, her American accent brimming with confidence.
“No, I mean, I do. My roommate Yousef told me Americans prefer utensils.” I had almost called him my husband.
