In “H Zaleekhah,” set by the Riv­er Thames in 2018, Zaleekhah nav­i­gates Great Rus­sell Street, dis­tract­ed by the hum of rush hour traf­fic. She had vis­it­ed a gallery sup­port­ed by the Malek fam­i­ly, hop­ing to see her cousin Helen, but finds she is not there. While walk­ing back, she recalls her neigh­bors men­tion­ing the own­er of a near­by house­boat and unknow­ing­ly heads towards a tat­too par­lour named “The For­got­ten God­dess.”

Sur­prised by the clean and invit­ing atmos­phere inside the tat­too shop—featuring a styl­ish emer­ald sofa and warm dec­o­ra­tive touches—Zaleekhah soon meets the own­er, a tall and charm­ing man who mis­takes her for a poten­tial tat­too client. Zaleekhah iden­ti­fies her­self as the ten­ant of the house­boat, only to learn that the actu­al own­er, Nen, is down­stairs.

When Nen appears, she greets Zaleekhah warm­ly, shar­ing that she has five younger broth­ers, which dri­ves an engag­ing con­ver­sa­tion about fam­i­ly dynam­ics. Zaleekhah’s expla­na­tion of her soli­tary child­hood leads to a mutu­al appre­ci­a­tion of the mean­ing­ful con­nec­tions in life. As the con­ver­sa­tion mean­ders, Zaleekhah men­tions a leaky kitchen sink, prompt­ing Nen’s sin­cere con­cern and will­ing­ness to address the issue.

Nen offers Zaleekhah a unique cof­fee brewed with dried laven­der, which she enjoys, intrigued by the con­ver­sa­tion about the cul­tur­al sig­nif­i­cance of cuneiform tat­toos, which are craft­ed in a script thou­sands of years old. Their dia­logue flows nat­u­ral­ly, with Nen shar­ing sto­ries from her explo­rations of the Thames, includ­ing trea­sures and curiosi­ties unearthed dur­ing her mud­lark­ing adven­tures.

As Zaleekhah pre­pares to leave, Nen express­es her sur­prise at Zaleekhah’s rent­ing a house­boat, sug­gest­ing that life on the water may bring unex­pect­ed won­ders. Zaleekhah finds her­self intrigued but uncer­tain, recall­ing a child­hood book that invoked a dif­fer­ent life. Final­ly, she leaves, hold­ing a slab of dough marked with her name in cuneiform, leav­ing behind hints of new con­nec­tions and the pos­si­bil­i­ty of a fresh chap­ter in her life as night falls over the house­boat.