Habib in Podcasts

But still hanging in the air over Asher Square, the telephone line snapped in two, crackling a strange incantation the dead hear as they wander confused amongst one another, learning each other's names, trying to comfort the living in their grief, to console those who cannot accept such random pain, speaking Habib softly, one to another there in the rubble and debris, Habib, over and over, that it might not be forgotten.