EXTRACT: From my short story, Men Like Khalil

‘There’s lots of Muslims tweeting now,’ said Javed, leafing again through the columns on his touchscreen. ‘They’re saying this is all wrong. But there are tweets from the EDL too. They’re gathering in Woolwich, tonight.’

Khalil walked to the window and looked out to the empty car park. His Mercedes would soon fade in the dusk. He was here, perhaps where he was always meant to be. This still night, with the first glimpses of summer balm, had the taste of something familiar. An incident which makes an entire nation stop and drop its mouth; the subtle positioning of each player feeling the breeze, a government mishandling the whole thing. Whether it was a matter of hours or days, this mosque could not go unnoticed and would need to be protected for however long it took.

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