1:23 PM
Museum of Islamic Art
The museum was modern and geometric with sharp angles and clean lines, and inside the air conditioning was aggressive enough that Sophia pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders.
They moved through the galleries slowly without any particular agenda, and Demien read plaques when they interested him and skipped them when they didn't, and Sophia took photos of architectural details and ceramic pieces that caught her eye.
In one gallery displaying ancient manuscripts and calligraphy, they sat on a bench facing a large illuminated Quran behind glass, and neither spoke for several minutes while other visitors moved past them.
"Do you think about what happens if your leg doesn't heal properly?" Sophia asked quietly, and the question came without preamble.
"Sometimes," Demien admitted, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, "usually at night when I can't sleep."
"What do you think about?" she pressed.
