"That first night, his hand in your hand wipes away all you ever knew about yourself and your wounds. Just his hand takes you away, like your father when his arms lifted you up in the air and your tiny body opened to the possibility of worlds it did not yet know. You did not sleep that night. You held a necklace and a bottle of perfume to your breast not sure where to hide them as you are without possessions or a cupboard you can lock. All your secrets are common knowledge, everyone is familiar with your doings and habits: a piece of paper, a cinema ticket hidden in your father's cupboard, in his jacket with the stars on the shoulder, and traces of all the surgery he performed with the scalpel there in the army hospital at Tel al-Kebir while you were still at the aubergine stage."
From Blue Aubergine by Miral al-Tahawy (1998/2002)