from THE SLIGHTEST GREEN

Aug 26, 2026

from THE SLIGHTEST GREEN tells a childhood tale set in the West Bank in 2007, where Sundus and her friend Amjad build a childhood world under a loquat tree and shape their days through shared games, seashell collecting, and stories. As rumors of violence spread from the countryside to their school and playground, Sundus is drawn into fear, grief, and shifting boundaries between communities, while family conversations and newspaper readings reveal the conflict’s growing reach.

LanguageEnglish

CategoryStory & Novel

FormatPDF

Pages14

Reading Time22 min

AccessFree to download

Childhood Under the Loquat Tree

Seashells and Shared Play

School Disruptions and Invisible Boundaries

Grammar Days and Integration Rumors

Rumors of Violence and Community Fear

Safuriyya Stories and Fear Growing

SAHAR MUSTAFAH from THE SLIGHTEST GREEN WEST BANK, 2007 FOR HAFEZ’S MOTHER, Sundus, it begins with seashells. She shuts her eyes and her childhood house appears behind her lids. Her own mother is ambling toward the stone brick wall, her swollen belly intruding upon the space between her and their neighbor, Um Husni, who’s called her mother over to talk. Her mother rubs her belly in wide circles as she listens to the other woman, cuffing her eyes from the sunlight. Spring gradually warms the air as it mingles with traces of the salty sea. “Aywa, aywa,” her mother murmurs, nodding her head in acquiescence to whatever Um Husni is telling her. Sundus’s mother is a beautiful woman—slender and tall, her thick wavy hair gathers into a bun atthe nape of her neck. She wears a house dress she can no longer belt, the color of purple thistle Sundus and her friend Amjad have plucked for their playhouse under her family’s loquat tree. The two of them are busy lining it with seashells from their holidays at the shore. It is an elaborate design: a kitchen, a parlor for receiving guests, and a private sitting room for Sundus to enjoy her books. “It faces east, so you can have the morning sun,” Amjad proudly declares. He is the chief architect on their project. They diligently work under a canopy of branches that protects them from the late morning sun. Their houses are separated by the stone brick wall no higher than her waist; Um Husni is Amjad’s mother. Sundus can’t recall her eightyear-old life without Amjad; her childhood has been defined by a few significant adults and schoolmates. He netted Sim-Sim for her, a lovely rock thrush, its blue head fading into a grayish body. Skittering to and fro inside its domed cage, it watches the two of them playing, speaking to them in chirrups and short whistles. Besides Sim-Sim, Amjad is her first real friend in the whole world. They’ve played together every day since their schools have been shuttered. The headmaster assured students that they would resume classes soon. But Sundus knew this was a lie, because Sayida Mansoor’s voiceshook when she told their class they had nothing to fear. The next day, her teacher was gone, and Sayida Rahman—who taught the older pupils and had a large mole on her chin—appeared for part of the day. The substitute teacher instructed their class to work on grammar exercises longer than Sundus could stand, so she doodled flowers on the back of her copybook. The headmaster stepped in for the second half of the day, and under his watchful eye the murmur of her schoolmates died down. Now there is talk that the schools will be integrated, given that attendance continues to drop; more of their classmates are kept home tobe tutored. This makes Sundus happy: she can see Amjad all day long. On the playground, her friend Hiba told of horrible things happening in the countryside, things the yahood did in a village called Safuriyya. They round up all the men and shoot them first. Then they find thepregnant mothers, cut out their babies. She’s seen Jews before. On his monthly visits to the neighboring villages around Hayfa to tend to his patients, Yabba takes Sundus along with him, and they drive past a neighborhood where fair-skinned and blue-eyed folks live, mothers pushing baby prams, men in slacks and button-up shirts—just like what her father wears. Some are deeply bronze-skinned like Abu Musa, who delivers a crate of fresh cactus fruit to her mother every season. And Sundus sees them at the beach at Eid, when they stay at a small inn off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, where she’s collected shells every holiday. But Sundus never plays with the children of yahood—not that she’s been forbidden, but she never broaches the invisible boundaries that are inexplicably drawn between them. Children like her and Amjad splash near the shoreline, while their parents lounge on blankets, enjoying a spread of goat cheese, figs, and apricots. The older women hitch up

FAQs

What role do seashells play in the story?

Seashells are the recurring symbol of Sundus’s childhood, collected during holidays and used to decorate imagined rooms and a home vessel. They become a tactile way to return to comfort even as fear grows.

How does the conflict affect Sundus’s daily life?

News of violence reaches her through Hiba’s accounts, school interruptions, and evenings reading aloud from newspapers. Her sense of safety collapses as death tolls and disappearances are discussed within her community.

Who are the key people shaping Sundus’s understanding of the world?

Sundus’s friend Amjad provides companionship and reassurance, while Yabba and other family members teach her how to interpret events. Her interactions with adults and neighboring villagers also highlight community separation.

Aug 26, 2026

Uploaded by Caleb Sterling