The Stone That Cries

Maryam woke before dawn. She had fallen asleep with the notebook under her pillow and one question spinning round and round in her head: The water that sings by night and day... what is it?

Then, through the window, she heard a sound she had known since the day she was born: trickle... trickle... trickle...

She leapt out of bed and shook her brother. "Ali! Wake up! It's the fountain! The water that sings by night and day is the fountain!"

Ali opened one eye. "And the stone that cries?" he mumbled sleepily. "Stones don't cry, Maryam..."

But he jumped up and followed her anyway, barefoot, his hair sticking up like a bird's nest.

The courtyard was quiet in the first light of morning. The pigeons were dozing along the edge of the roof and the cats were stretching by the door. The two of them stood in front of the little stone fountain and began to examine it carefully, stone by stone.