5- The Shabandar Café was the only literary place where we could still gather, the only café I could sit in without feeling I had to be ashamed of my female body; religion has named my pear breasts contemptible and the lavender between my thighs a disgrace. They were born from wombs just like mine, but they have abandoned God and his mercy to become soldiers of Satan; they have burned the last refuge I could share with my friends.