Sitting down to listen to the khutbah from Cambridge on YouTube, I turn to my beloved. “I’d like to visit that mosque one day,” I tell her. “A day trip, maybe.”

“Definitely,” she replies. “I used to live near there.”

“I did too,” I laugh, comparing notes. “What year was that?”

“1995,” she says, “The year I first came here. September.”

“Are you kidding me?” I exclaim. “I was living there too at exactly the same time.”

We were living in different satellite villages, going about different work. She was working in a school, I was working in a software company.

But still, who knows if we once brushed past one another while wandering through Cambridge on our days off, five years before we finally met. We must return, this time hand in hand.

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