Archives: Saturday, June 30, 2018

Guests of the Shah

“You’re limping, Houshang.” Hamid smiles up from the chessboard. “Stubbed your toe again, I suppose?” “A blister from my long walk around the city yesterday.” I chuckle. We both know why I limp. I am a lifelong communist. My boiled cynicism often serves as much to poison as shield me. Hamid is a Muslim cleric

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