Collection of

Short Stories

Najwa Najati Al-Nabulsi

Damascus – Syria
P.O.Box 31240
Mobile : 00963 988917195

1
1- OutBreak

I palsied two years before his death. Two years

after, my children decided to change our home
furniture. I heard her telling her brother, " she will
keep fluctuate on his bed till she dies after him!"
She was almost sad and angry. "Let us change the
old furniture might she forget his smell might her
yearning leave her eyes and she forgets him! Oh my
God! How much she had loved him!" I heard him
laughing, he replied," I wish you, modern women,
consider love as she did!"

I smiled.

They moved one piece of furniture after another

taking them out. I did not interrupt. I sat there, on
my wheelchair with a wrap on my lap. I was quite
like a lamp. My eyes followed the pieces. I was
sinking deeply in the waves of my thoughts, when I
heard my daughter says, "Mom, do you want this
picture here?" I replied, "Which one?" She signed to
the wall. I followed her finger to the spot she was
signing to, "This! My dad's!" I was taken! Looking

2
at the picture amazingly, said with a trembling
sound," How it comes! Who fixed it here? I did not
see it before!" Astonished the two answered me,"
Mom, it was here all the time!"

I looked again; saw a picture with an old wooden

frame. My eyes fixed on it for a while, and then
moved to the picture itself, and stayed on it for a
while I did not know how long it was.

His eyes, stocked all his victories in his struggles

with me, a look that assaulted my soul, frightened
her, then locked it up in his breast cage until his
breaths shrank, and choked him. His foul hands
upon his lap rose against my face every time I asked
for a right or felt a need. His hands used to sustain
to repress all my wishes. In addition, a yellow smile
used to laugh on my feelings.
Never mind, all that is not important now. Because
what make me astonished is, how it comes that I did
not see this picture before?

It is amazing! How we ignore what we hate until it

slaps from our minds and then defaces from our

3
life!

I heard my voice saying," leave it, I should talk to

it."
They left the room, and before closing the door, I
heard him whispering to her," poor soul! How much
she loved him! I do not remember any affray
between them, or combat"

Then, I inducted all my heart into his face. I do not

know how I reached him. However, my hands, with
a black pen, closed his mouth and darkened his
eyes. I take him off my throne, off my room's wall.
Broke the wooden frame shred the picture into
pieces.

I walked on my feet, opened the door, and faced

with a wide victorious smile my children's
astonished eyes and their open mouths.
They never understand that behind the false
servility a dangerous hate that only destruction can
satisfy.

4
2- Spirits

I could not sleep. I hear breaths in all the night; As

if someone was sleeping beside me. The walls came
closer and closer on me, until I felt the blocks on
my chest. Suddenly, I jumped and told my sister:”
I’ll go home.” “At this hour!” she screamed,” you
are crazy!” I insisted.

Streets were almost empty, dark, cold, and

dangerous. As soon as I have opened the door of my
home, Jasmine jumped into my arms.” Oh, my dear
girl, I miss you.” I put her food in its dish, but she
smelled it, then came back to my lap, put her head
on my breast and meowed.

The house was warm even there was no fire. I went

to bed. Jasmine slept too. In my dream I hear a
sound repeating:” God Bless the house...” Really, I
was frightened.

I told my sister next day:” My home has a spirit.”

5
“You are crazy,” she replied, “I can not sleep
anywhere else, I feel its warm, and its smell too is
so lovely. I like this house too much, and can not
stay long in any other place.” “That is because of
your nice memories, don’t forget; you have spent in
this house your best years with him.”

Two years now since he had left, but I still feel he is

here in every spot. His toothbrush is still there in the
bathroom, his perfume bottle, half-empty, is on the
laver roof. His wards’ echo still can be heard in the
rooms. I remember his wedding party, and the first
time I saw the girl he has married. She was young
and pretty, blonde-haired person, and has green
eyes. He danced with her happily; she was like a
butterfly in her light green dress. I have bought him
a bunch of white Lillis; knowing that he likes this
flower. To congratulate them, I stepped up the few
stairs, which covered with a red carpet, giving him
the bunch; I saw his eyes, which I had adored for
nine years. He looked into mine with pity. I do not
need his pity; I know he had loved me honestly, but
we had to separate. We had agreed upon this matter,
he shall marry, and I will travel aboard to complete

6
my studies, believing that I am still so young to
marry.
Therefore, now I will leave within two weeks.
However, can I?

My friends invited me to a good-bye party, lately at

night, she told me: “You must stay this night with
us; it is too late to go home.” “Yes, I will.”
Two years ago, he had attended with me a similar
party, we had danced all the night, and between his
arms, I always felt calm and safe. “I wish we could
go on for ever!” he whispered in my ears.” But we
can not, you know we can not” I resisted, “You are
crazy! You love me!” said angrily. I laughed, “Yes I
do, but there are many things else I like to do in my
life.” Trying to explain. “I want to marry; I want to
make a family.” “Good, go on, do it.” He became
nervous, but he held me between his arms all the
night; and I fell in deep sleep, feeling calm and safe.

One of my friends waked me few hours later “you

was screaming, a nightmare?” “Oh, sorry, no, It is
my home, it is calling me to be back.” She looked at
me strangely “Are you mad, to go home now! Few

7
hours and the sun will rise then you can go!” “No,
just now, I cannot stay.”
This night too; the walls were breathing in my ears,
the sound called me to go back home.
Opening the door, Jasmine jumped to my arms,
licked my face, “Come to bed my girl” Jasmine
used to sleep under his feet; he used to play with her
in the morning, “You know, you two share
something” “What is it?” “My love!” I laughed
merrily.

I postponed my trip for many days, until it was

impossible to stay any more. I take Jasmine to one
of my friends “Please take care of her, don’t let her
go out” “Ok.”
I rent a home in a strange city. The first night was so
hard. The house was cold, and I hear the sound all
the time, day and night. I thought; I will be used to
it, I will be used to the new city and the new house,
also I will bring another cat to live with me.
Nevertheless, every night it became more difficult.
The walls of the new house come closer and closer
on me; they are on my chest; I cannot breathe,

8
I cannot bear any more, I cannot sleep for one
minute.

I believed that houses have souls, in a way. My old

home has a soul, a very soft, tender soul. Moreover,
it is still calling me every night, Jasmine too, I had
dreams of her; meowing sadly.
So, Again, I packed my things.
I take the first trip home, straight to my friend
house, “It is incredible! You are back! Surely you
are crazy!” “Where is Jasmine?” I asked
immediately. “Sorry dear, Jasmine had jumped out
of the veranda two days ago, sorry for that, but I did
not find her anywhere.”

I went home, opening the door, Jasmine Jumped to

my arms. I was sure I would find her there, just like
me; she cannot live out of this house. Sure; we
share something. Yes, it is his love.

9
3- A Hope

" Has he gone" the woman asked. The two looked at

the lying boy in his bed. There was no sorrow in
their eyes, no merry; no meaning. "I don't know,
perhaps." The man answered. As if talking to
herself, she murmured: "no, I think…perhaps; he
did not yet". They again do not know why they are
waiting, nor for what they are waiting.
She wondered, "How long was he lying like that?
Years? Many years now; and the child still gazing
on the ceiling. His eyes empty, his hands cold. Had
he borne dead? She could not remember. However,
wait, no, she remembered; he, for many times, filed
her life; smiling, cooing, playing with her. She
remembered the moment she delivered him to life,
the happiest moment in her life. How beautiful he
was. How she embraced his so small body in her
arms, how she fed him, giving him her breast's
milk. Was all that only imaginations? Could not be
sure. Was he alive really, or she wished to?
He wondered, "Should we wait for ever? How long

10
should we wish him alive? Many years we were
waiting for him to return to life, many years we
were watching his calmness and silence; he is dead.
I am bored. I wish I could get another child; wish
that one day, an alive child would play with me,
filed my life with his love, and made it warm. In
addition, this boy is lying here, without a move,
uselessly. He could not be my dream."
The woman looked at the man "you caused this.
You were so acute with him. You were so hard to
him. How many times he had called for you, but
you did not recall?
And now what are you waiting for?"
The man looked at the woman "you! Since the first
moment had tried to dispose of him. You did not
want him. Now you get it. Here is he, lying with no
move. You are the one to be blamed. You should
have cared him and protect him, but you did not."
" if he is dead; then there is no need for him to stay
here; we should burry him." The women said, and
add, "His body will be corrupted, and the bad smell
will fill the room. Then we can not keep him long,
we should dispose of the body." The man did not
reply. He thought. "If he is dead, then, no way, we

11
should burry him."
She thought, "even so, he still fills our room, giving
our life a meaning. Oh, God, if he could rise to his
feet, laugh and play with us, Oh, God, if he—" a
very low sound is hear in the room. They both
raised and approached the bed of the child; no, there
is no sign; he is still so cold and calm.
" look... He is smiling; I see something in his eyes.
Look" the man cried. She looked, "yes, there is
something, let us wait." She murmured.
They back to their seats. "Tomorrow, he will get up;
will come to me to play, tomorrow I will take him in
my arms. Oh, God is it possible?" she thought.
" I should get another child; it is my dream. Still, I
hope; he will recover. Oh, God how nice he was.
What was the reason for all that?"
He looked around the room, "cold and dark, every
thing in it is cold and dark. The curtains on. The
sunrays never entered through. May be if I drew the
curtains then rays will come through, and may be I
can see the trees outside, hear the voices of the
birds." He stepped to the window, but hesitate "I
think there is no sun outside, it is night"
" how long we were here.. Waiting" he questioned.

12
"How long? Since the beginning" she answered.
"Could we try any thing?" he questioned again.
Bitterly she whispered," I tried all my best, do you
think I did not?" burst in tears, felt so miserable, he
is her only child, only dream, why should he go
away like that? She had tried every possible way,
with all the love in her heart. Now, she does not
know why all that happened, may be he knows.
A bad smell filled the room, smell of corruption and
death, so strong.
" if we buried him, what is left for us" he wondered"
could it be possible, is any other boy able to fill my
life and hers"
" Oh, God! The smell is so strong, death smell, now
it will be spread out. No use, we should burry him,
he should be out of here, he has really gone" the
woman talked as if to herself.
" Few hours and the sun will rise. Then we will be
obliged to burry him; the smell would be stronger,
no use of waiting, he is really dead." The man
talked to himself.

Even though, they both did not move.

13
4- The Director

The Theater is on life, loud voices are hear

everywhere. Lights distributed carefully. Setting,
and back pictures were chosen appropriately. Actors
are reciting their roles calmly. The young director is
giving her orders here and there. A balcony was
arranged for the main actor to appear on it bending
on its enceinte apostrophizing her lover who is
playing his love’s song on his fiddle.

“It is the last test. Tomorrow the show will start! Do

you understand? As if, you do not recite well the
words you have to say!”
“The role is not an ambiguity! However, you are so
nervous today!”
His reply annoyed her. She used to be joyful with
her actors during work directing. Young men; her
friends were doing the work. So, why she is treating
them so different today? Ran over to spectacles
chairs; sat there and take a cup of tea, to calm down.
She tried to remember one reason for her bad mood.

14
At morning, she used to open the windows widely,
as soon as she is awake to kiss the first sunbeams,
but, today, she kept them close, and harried up to
put on the TV before washing her face. Oh, yes, she
remembered. Before she went to bed yesterday
night, she hear TV news urgently, she picked just
few words while she was taking dinner, so she
could not see the full view . Since months, she saw
the evening news; young men and kids were killed,
then, why this piece of news disturbed her? The
events are so far, beyond many boards, mountains
and valleys, every day she is obliged to attends
funeral of unknown face, unfamiliar body which she
can’t distinguish its figure, those who chose to die
by their free will and gave death new name…new
color, it is no more an end, no, it is something else.
Defending.. Resisting, what weapons they have?
Old ones? Or mere stones? Are not they actors in
the universal drama? However, who is the director,
and why should he kills all his good actors?

Back in her mind jumped words she hear so often

these days; to use the Universal Language in

15
communication; a worldly language which units all
the populations, and their interests. Who did say
these words? She couldn’t remember.”

“You are talking to yourself! What is wrong with

you today? What should we learn? Acting modern
styles?” he asked anguish, “yes, because they are
incredible actors!” replied bitterly.” They are
playing coolly and convince all spectators.”

The lights brighten in the right and left corners,

exactly as decided. A young, slender, tall boy,
stepped on the wooden platform, his back to her,
facing the balcony, where his beloved was sitting.

Her heart sunk.

Moreover, that boy, If only he turned her face to her,

if they could take a shot of his eyes, of his face, if
she could see him clearly, Falling on the land; under
the tank’s wheels. Pity his Mom’s heart.

“Turn to me! Let the spectators see your face” she

screamed loudly and unconsciously.

16
The young actor puzzled. “But, Ms….” The rest of
his statement swings away, seeing her covering her
face by her hands.
“Couldn’t we postpone the first show?” she asked
her friend who was her assistance director, “Sorry,
No.” he rejected. “Oh, yes the show is going on
successfully every day since a long time, there,
responsible men are holding meetings every where,
to discuss how to finish this fight.” She said sleepy,
and added, “Did you see yesterday news? “He noted
and said : “Nothing new, the resistance did not stop,
I wish it would not, but I bored of death’s shows.”
“That boy! I could not see his face; his back was to
me, and his chest facing the tank with its cannon.
He was holding just a stone! How dare they shot
him! I wish I could have seen his eyes,” She said
hysterically.
“Please, dear, concentrate on your work today, our
show starts tomorrow, people are coming to have
some fun, eager to forget their daily gray, please.”
He begged her. “Do you know his name? did they
clear his name on TV.” She asked.
“Yes, it was Fares.”

17
The final test was about to end, Juliet on her
deathbed, Romeo, a young boy, slender and tall,
was rising the poison bottle to his lips, chooses to
die; chooses to unit with his beloved in life and in
death.

Why he should have been so weak? Why he did not;

in stead, raise a sward to fight for his rights?
Against his enemy, he would either win or die, any
way.

In addition, if his beloved stood by him, defending

her love, then she might follow his funeral, might
then take his weapon to fight again, refusing to
yield, would not the play been more attractive?

She remembered a man of religion who was talking

in general speech; he said : “The revolution in Iran
won when people went out to streets carrying red
roses, and calling the Shah to give up the crown,
cannon bombed them, but they keep on going
forward till the king was obliged to leave.”

18
She stand up, a little creature with strong ability,
takes her decision, shouts to her actors “ Re-arrange
the stage, “Fares will have a rose in his hand, and
instead of the balcony we will put a cannon, then
his slender body will be carried by his beloved, who
might be killed after him.” She spoke so calmly and
continued, “Oh, God, please stop this silly drama;
there is no more a time for old fashion love.”

5- The Mirror

The way was cold and crooked. I sensed by body

but did not find it. The mirror was in my hand,
looked at my face, it was reflected broken. I hear a
mourning voice behind me, walked faster,
something being shut; might be a door.
Saw a lightened corner up road; run there, my steps
were faster than I had used to. The light dazzled me;
closed my eyes, looked again; images flashed,
turned my face refusing to see their severe.

Two strong hands were rocking my swing, I shouted

merry:” More; higher.” Coming backward, the

19
swing touched his chest, I smell his perfume, seized
it in my lungs, then expelled it out into the air, the
perfume evanesce, his hands too. The swing was
broken.
Slipping down, my feet touched the ground, raised
the mirror; two large dark eyes of a little girl
flashed, showing pain and a wish to fly.

I turned the corner. City seemed worm and lighted.

Stepped on wooden platform; a strong hand
withhold me, leading me forward, there were loud
claps, the hand spoke, I hear it talking, saying:” you
are the star, you must play your role well” I did not
know what my role was, but I understand that the
sound was the director’s.

Strange cloths on me; I looked odd, beautiful,

colored, and tender, dared not look in the mirror,
afraid, might see that woman, whose broken face
dwells in the mirror.

Sited on the swing again, was my role to sit on it

forever? Strong hand pushed it up, frightened; I
clutched its ropes, yet, when it was backward, it

20
touched a chest, I smelled a perfume I have known,
I have loved once. I discovered that the hands were
his, also the smell, was his too. Swinging in the
smell, I lost my conscious. I became that little girl,
singing and dancing. Happiness’ drums were
hitting, the wooden platform echoed the sounds.
Grass grew around me; wet and green. His hands
around me, and his perfume made me boozy. I
forget my mirror. I danced with everybody. Roads
were brightening, earth jumped joyfully. I called
him to sit by my side; we two are on the swing,
slipping to the sea, thrown on the rocks. The
longing blue is calling out to its shy sun, raising its
waves toward it. The shy red brushed its golden hair
around its head, and lazily stretched its beams.
I shouted”: Look! We are there, two shadows in its
center; you and me.” The bright beams of the loving
sun neared, slept on the hands of the sea, and buried
itself within its body. The sea calmed down
embracing its beloved, slept; the world was drown
in darkness. I dared not sleep afraid if I did then I
might wake up to find that the sea and the sun were
only a dream, afraid I might go back to the mirror
and dwell in the broken face. I hear his hands

21
laughing at me jockeying my fair. I asked him”:
please tell me, who is I? Am I the kid of the swing?
Or the woman of the broken face? The drown sun of
the sea? “His voice replied:” look in the mirror, you
will know.” Hesitated, if I looked, I might return to
her, whose eyes frightened me. He asked me
“Do you want to know the truth?“ I nodded.
Holding his hands tightly, they pushed my swing
up, I hear my voice” Higher..up..up” and I laughed
joyfully, the mountain neared me, the forest’s trees
approached, I singed with the clouds, the lightning
brighten in my heart charging me with a strange
power, as if I have born new, live once more.

Suddenly, the director shouted”: Stop! Go back.” I

refused, go on, fetch for his hands, hold them, and
inbreathe from his chest my favorite smell.

The director screamed”: Stop! You will be punished

for breaking the game’s rules, you should not be
solved in the role, and you should just act it
perfectly.”

I pointed to the hands, begging them:” why should

22
you let me down twice? Why should you break my
swing twice?” I hear his hands’ voice saying,” go
back to the mirror and you will know.”

I am afraid to go back, afraid I might freeze in it,

afraid to be broken within two worlds. I said
angry”: Why? If I am from the mirror’s world, why
did you lead me to this theater? Why should I back
now?

At last, looking in the mirror, I saw myself brighten

with wild truthfulness. I stopped the swing, cut its
ropes, break the mirror, and declared loudly” You
are but a fail! You; Director.”

23
6- A Modern Vision

Sitting in her rocking chair, she stretched her body,

feeling restful; she enjoyed the touch of the tender
fresh air on her face. The opposite widow was
widely opened, and the evening tender wind was
playing with the curtains. Before few years, this
same window was ever close; afraid the dust could
spoil the clearness of her home, throw, and break
her precious objects.
Few years ago, the wild wind had turned her life up
down; today, she yields to it, let it plays with
everything, and enjoys it.

I taught him language, he was my student, it is not a

strange story, and not rare; neither in the past nor in
today, there are many similar love stories, which
now seem to me less than normal. A schoolteacher
falls in love with her young student; a teenage boy
and a few years older woman. Divorced by a man
who had packed his belongs to travel; she
encouraged him to find his way, to succeed, but
when he picked the fruits, he lost the way home.
The West civilization has tempted him to stay there,

24
A sand, Coming from the thirsty desert, to sink in
the ocean.

I refused to follow him, my dreams should be

executed here; on hard ground. I built my special
world, systematically. He promised to come back,
but he never did.
My bitter despair darkened his image in my
memory, so I asked for divorce, to complete the
frame of this picture, spiritually and mentally.

I continued to live according to my plans, a

language teacher. I buried the seeds of sorrow,
which this miserable experience planted inside me.
There was a spot of hope helped me to wait for a
true love, in which I still believe.

Days and weeks elapsed, curtains still dropped on

the heart, preventing the worm beams of the sun,
and the light wind of the spring. Even there were
various calls; but my heart has turned to be an old
fashion machine, the modern signs seem to be
strange, unacceptable, and dim. My spirit died, but
my body still working and working, collecting

25
money, getting more luxury, in my home, my car
and my cloths, thus cannot turn the hard metal in
my eyes into tears, any type of tears; happy or sad,
tears which may let me feel that I am still a human
being, effecting life either positively or negatively.

His presence was remarkable, his eyes were bright

and wit, interrupting cleverly, he was not dull to
snub him, and his jests made me laugh long. Staring
at him abstractedly; handsome, smart, and merry,
his character was attractive. Many times, he kept me
long after the lesson, asking question then wittily
slap into a long conversation.

He entered my life with a cup of coffee, to know all

my details, until his presence became a necessity, I
did not hesitate to accept his invitations, the reason
might be my long solitary, or it might be his
specialty, the most important: the difference
between our ages made me feel save.

Gradually I fell in deep love, and thought he is too;

may be I convinced myself that it is true. Is it right
that our affection are but a reflection of the other?

26
Alternatively, is it only an illusion? My mind did
not take any protective process in consideration, as
if he has damaged all the warning systems in it, or
may be I did. My heart has woken beating strongly
with life, receiving his burning beams, without
asking me; he draw off the curtains. I found myself
in his deep sea; a lost ship with no wing, no
direction, no oar. A sinker who did not know how to
deal with the wild waves; trying to push my head
out- his salty love in my eyes- pushed again to the
deep bed by the heavy patience I suffered long
from. The only safety hoop thrown to me was his
neck, and to hold it fast was the sole solution.

He recognized my fondness, and realized that my

resists had drained, and that I have gave up to what
I had thought fate but was only a net he was knitting
wittily, became sure that I had used to his fresh
blood going into mine; requiring him everyday to
irrigate my thirsty garden with his water.

At first, the required amount was little, cannot be

refused; there were no limit between us, love united
us, money would not differ, coins with no value,

27
and I have a lot of. This no value amount, had
increased day after day, the last request was to buy
him a car, which dazzled me, made me stand unable
to understand, unable to reply his desire; he left me
for days.

I recovered from a fever hallucination, to see the

fact nicked, on which he put a silk coat for so long,
and understood that I was paying him in turn of his
love. Burst in long mad laugh, until I cried long.
Turned down all my furniture, precious
masterpieces broke expensive pots I had. I was
angry with myself not with him, me who believed
him, who was so stupid, a big fool to think he was
true. Then, calmed down, my entire house was in
mass. Looking at these flinders, I thought deeply,
closed my eyes and looked inside me; I still love
him? He still Satisfy me. Then, I will pay him until
I recover.

Seven months were enough. The amount I was

paying would not bother me, nevertheless, my
senses of him as a whore faster my recovering.
Unimaginable fact; a wonderful, well-built young

28
man, uses himself to get money. I know many girls
who do so, why should I disapprove it for a man?
He is free to do so if he is satisfied with; he had
chosen it a way to live. Should a whore be a
woman? He is making love to get what he wants, a
modern vision.

He get out of my life same way he entered I,

gradually. Time kisses our wounds blessing us. I
pushed him away exactly as any man might do with
a whore after paying her. Swam alone back to the
shore, something has been broken inside; my belief
in love. It is just an illusion in which, women only,
believe, they create it to put a frame around their
stories, giving a romantic color to their lusts,
exactly as we usually do to our pictures putting
them on the walls.

I opened my windows widely. Enjoyed life to its

extremes, now, I understand the modern love, there
is no need, any more, to put illusions around it,
there is no need for love’s words; the time is so fast,
and can not wait for them, there is only a
momentary lusts, rapid fulfillment, going so fast.

29
The remains, are shots taken during my journeys
and travels; souvenirs signed by different names,
what is the benefit of names if shots are same;
showing any young man, any wonderful younger
who might inspire me short love poem, who might
put me on fire for may be days or months if I like
and me. On intention, I never allow it to be for long,
as traveling lonely is my favorite, and to transport
among stations is my hobby. Always I finish my
journey, or you may say, my relation, with a
precious gift to the short road companion, the most
important thing, is that he should be young, and let
him, after my leave, fetch for another woman, who
is still believe in love, I mean, the old fashion of
love.

She is still sitting there, on her cradle, rocking

forward and backward, and the wind; the wild wind
is still striking the curtains..

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7- The Flames

Crying, he fell into the earth. The hills, valleys, and

mountains hear his scream, “was it a wounded
wolf’s scream, or a goat?” The universal creatures
confused. He was shouting, “It is not me!” Green
leaves of palm trees trembled, roses’ heads turned.
All closed their eyes helplessly.

Knowledge sprang up, flashed; he saw that he had

been created for a purpose. His fiery nature inquired
him to soar, to test his superiority; exactly as flames
always does; it cannot understand the reason; but it,
while burning, ascends to skies. The more it is high;
the more it burns. He refused to yield, his fiery
nature refused to kneel. So, unconsciously- or with
blind conscious- he resisted, sure, he is the best; he
is the purer.
“From flames knowledge springs” he assured
himself.
The universe belly; the forest, embosomed him.
However, he forgot the sorrow of his exile.
Speculating the beauty of the surrounding, the green
of the trees, the waves of the rivers, he dazzled. The

31
roses’ beauty is tempting him to step nearer, to
touch them. However, he was afraid that he might
put it on fire. His fingers are but flames; so where to
go, and what to handle? His solidity was a detention
torturing his soul.
As a response to his instinct, he prayed for the
universal mighty, felt calm, full of hopes that there
should be a way to return to his world. The universe
smiled ironically.
Wandering among the groves, listening to the songs
of the birds, he saw them both lying on the grass, so
bright like innocence; which never grows up, the
secret of the babies, which defaces from memories.
He glared at their faces, the splendor of their details
dazed him, wondered who the charm was. He
approached; he can see their inner facts; trembled,
among their cells they hide potential power, passive
currents, he was sure these would be raised soon. To
know more; he stepped nearer, just few steps.
Passed by them like a quick lightning, they were
sleeping, so they did not see him, but felt the fire
inside them, opened their eyes, turned around,
something like fear, like running in the forest, has
create a new beats in the hearts.

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She run to his chest, threw herself between his
arms; seeking protection from the unknown. He
received her on his breast; hold her hard frightened
too, a strong strange current slipped between their
bodies, a new beat of life, they united again back to
origin.
They wondered how they were separate all that
time, and each one of them completes another.
Laughed joyfully; the forest trembled, the voice was
newly discovered. “For this we had been created; to
laugh together.”
The flames was scared; the trees and animals
pointed at him accusing him, telling “ He, when
neared them put on the fire inside them” he shouted
in vain” It is not me, I saw the fire inside them and I
knew it will burn soon, “even if I did not pass by, it
is a matter of time.” He said, but none understands.
“Yes, you caused this; you have frightened us, and
by fear we discovered our first call” They said.
The forest was angry, so they all banished away to
the top of the mountains, roads were so rough, and
all was tired. Each was trying to set his special
world of illusions, might forget the calm forest they
were living in.

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Cursed by all, the flames wished he had not been
created,
His longing for knowledge still acquiring him to
fetch, to see their happiness; once again he
approached, gradually near them. Unfortunately; the
old bright has disappeared, forwarding more, he
understood that the passive currents have started to
turn into inner conflict, into acute sneaking struggle.
Passing by them, they felt the glow, turned to each
other, in rage, fights, separated each one went in a
different direction. “How could we be united all
these days, each of us is a unique glory?”
Fighting, a red river emerged, covering the green, a
huge wave advanced. Seeing him hidden among the
palms, they accused” It is him, the cause behind all
this!”
” It is not me! I just passed by!” he screamed. They
run, following him. Trying to escape, he run until he
is executed. Stopped, almost sank in blood; “You
two! It is enough; you should know, you and me are
only a tool in his hands! Only means in his play”
They did not listen.
The red river swallows them all!

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8- The Blue Flies

Silence.. No word, TV’s herald presents the recent

progress of today news. Sinks in her seat, holds her
legs between her arms, as if afraid they will
antecede her running away far, coughs; feeling the
dust in her lungs. Whispers: “it is a stifling
atmosphere.”
Glances at her with absent look, his voice so deep;
replies: “another play we should witness.” His legs
fail; wants to stand and go; he dare not. Confused,
he thinks : “how many times I decided and failed,
she did not fulfill my dream, she could not give me
one child, many years I was waiting for a hope
never came true, there should be a solution.” “I will
marry.” He says. She shrugs her shoulders; hear this
many times, what can she do?” Another woman will
occupy you; a stranger will enter your life.” She
says. “Will not fail you; I will be available.” He
replies. “What is the use of tender words, she knows
how it would be.’ she thinks. Listens again to the
TV; one channel announces victory news, crafts
being crushed; another says that confederacy arms

35
went deep in the city. She is confused; does not
know; should she believe his promises that he will
always love her, be friends forever, or should
believe her knowledge about his nature; a man who
adores beauty. He said: “Beauty of soul is more
important, and memories are stronger, belongness,
history and...” She laughs “And Geography? What
about it? What about discovering new continents,
green hills, and virgin spring.” She replies him.
Defenders fight crafts, blue flies fall down by shots
of an old man. She defends the invasion of a young
woman to the heat of a man whom she loved all her
life. Her weapons are old. Her sister shouted:” leave
him and ask for divorce, do you accept your
humiliation!” At evening, she returned to his chest,
smelled his land and shadow, his grass and trees,
asked herself:” can I?”
One fighter shouts:” I’ll defend until my death, to
last drop of my blood.”
He was her homeland. “Is victory possible?” She
asks. “Impossible!” He replies.
She chokes; powers are not equivalent. Should she
fly away? Should she leave him? Could she live
without him?. Feels so weak, she knows how it

36
likes to face reality. It is so bitter.
He thinks”: this time I will execute my decision, but
if she wants to stay here, what shall I do? I do not
have another home; where to live with my new
wife? In addition, will I be used to live with another
woman? I love her, but still I want a baby. Her love
was like a great beautiful edifice, strong and
controlling, was it her fault that it was not fruitful?
Despair makes me feel weak and drought. There is
no other solution; there should be another woman.
She thinks : “I’ll stay and accept his conditions; no
need to try, I can’t, what is the use of defending? He
will not recoil; I know his headiness and his strong
will.”
The blue flies surround the city, some fit fire to
make them fly away; they attach through holes
inside the smokes. TV sound is high; one channel
says: Important points fell, another says: we
surround their armies, unconsciously, she
murmured: “Isn’t there any way?” “Need a
miracle!” He replies. “How realism you are!” She
says. Laughing loudly, he reverts: “that is the truth.”
“Yes I need miracle,” she thinks, “My belly is dry
and unfruitful”. He notices her thoughts; stretches

37
his hand to her; “you are the edifice of love; it is
neither your fault nor mine, may be it is fate.” He
says. Bitterly she asked : “No choice?” his eyes
darken; “No other choice.” He answered.
The herald says the confederacy want to turn down
the controller, want to change the policy’s system.
Oppression is hard, and she will not be injustice to
him; the deficiency is hers, she has no right to take
him away of his dreams, she will assist him as sign
of her real love.
“I accept your conditions; and stay with you.” She
suggests. “A new building could not be settled upon
the old one; we should break down the old to build
the new.” He replied.
The voice of the herald becomes higher, the city is
empty, and confederacy army occupies the city. The
blue flies cover its sky.
Putting his head between his arms; he remembers
the young girl he saw before few days, pretty like a
dream, he anticipate his child inside her belly.
The dream becomes so strong controlling his days
and he no more is able to resist. he wants her and
him. Glanced at her, his eyes full of tears, her love,
his memories with her, and the happy past, all that

38
he should forget, but he feels weak, feels the
strength of fate. He feels the bitterness of life.
She can understand his thoughts, their past together,
unity of body and soul, love that she considered so
great, never could be broken, is falling down now!
The herald is announcing now the end of the war.
“I will leave tomorrow,” she says.
“The play is finished” replies absently.
“It is hard,” she says.
“Hardness is a necessity, when we feel drought.” He
reverts.
“It is a drought to be hard, not to control other
solutions,” she says, but he did not hear her, he was
giggling loudly, following the felling down of the
statue.
The blue flies fill the square of the city, fetching for
a new target.
She picked up her memories with her cloths, putting
them in bags.
He sits down waiting for the coming days.

9- The Rat

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There is a rat in my home! I saw it lingering at night
in my kitchen, put on the light it did not run away;
sneak to the laver, held the soap between the
forelegs, and started gnawing.
Hidden in my bedroom; I hear a voice. Was it his or
theirs?
Closing my eyes, the voice take me to the past, I
saw myself returning home late to find my two
kinds waiting for me;
- Mammy we are hungry!
The rat is lingering in my house; I too lingered for
long, begged for their food, cloths, and books.
One of my neighbors said:
- Believe me, you will not find any job. I did search
long. You may know; my husband’s salary is
enough for only six days. Come with me; one hour
and you will get much money.
- Is not it disgusting?
- It is just mechanical job same as others.
I considered her advice, but I could not accept it.
My tender memories prevented me. I still love my
late husband.
The rat has turned something up-dawn.

40
If I leave a piece of cheese for it, would it come
nearer? If I touch its head, would it look at me with
love?
I feed them many years; dried their tears, their smile
was true and promising; I did not ask for love, theirs
was natural response to mine. Their shades still
here, kids as they were. I want them out! Out of my
home, and of my heart. I wish I could forget that I
delivered them into my life.
Is it possible to teach the rat something?
They studied at good school; I wanted for them a
good future. When he was a little boy, he asked me
to let him work, I refused, he must study to be a
well-educated man, to have a good job, and to live
with dignity.
My daughter finished her studies at high school, one
day she came home joyfully, told me:
- Mom, I will marry a rich man.
I was so happy, hold her between my arms, as usual
she pushed me a little away, I did not believe! Even
if she was pretty, but how it comes, that she will
marry a rich man.
- Tomorrow, will go with him to the court and marry
their, there will be no

41
party, no need for you to come. I will bring you the
marriage paper to see.
I hear the rat lingering freely in my home. Would it
bring its female to my home? Oh, no it is a terrible
house.
I blessed her and she went, some times, she came to
visit me, sat there in the corner, showing me her
jewels, silently.
The rat too has no voice, or may be a very sharp
low one could not be hear, I f I tried to speak to
him, would he reply?
My son graduated, then found a job, when he got
his first salary he bought new cloths for himself, no
one had used before, he said:
- I will move to live with one of my friends, I want
to forget this place, I feel all people pointing at me.
Well for me, I want to forget that there is a rat in my
home!
I still need to work, my legs became weak, cold
weather causes me pain. I need to visit my daughter.
Asked about her house, and went there, rang, a
beautiful woman opened, may be she were mine,
she flustered, asked me:
- How did you come! Afraid my husband would see

42
you!
I left, did not cry, not to loose my way.
I used to beggar, food and clothes, but never for
love.
I closed my eyes, trying to forget the rat in my
home. If I begged for him it some cheese, would it
remember me after?

10 - The Tableau

At last, I furnished my house, I was keen to buy

only what I like much, but some thing was missing.
I searched everywhere until it surprised me: a
fantastic tableau. I thought; it is what I need to
complete my home décor. I believe painting as an
art is life itself reflecting its beauty, glory, and love.

It was an old tableau showing the spring of the first

light, its green mixed with blue’s purity, and tender,
its red is the determinate end of the shine. I looked
at it, breathing fast, heart beating; I paid a lot of
money to have it.

43
I was so proud and happy, carried it like a treasure,
hung it on the saloon’s wall and stood their
receiving my guests and friends who came to
congratulate me, some of them stood for moments
gazing at it expressing their admiration, others
hiding their mockery smiles, knowing that I paid a
treasure to get this piece.

It has failed me when its painter visited me, seeing

it on the wall he denied it, said it is only a false
deformed copy of the original. I did not know what
to do, I hated it, hated each piece of furniture in my
home, each beautiful piece seemed to me so ugly. I
felt every person was quipping at my blindness and
ignorance. It seems that all knew the fact except me.

However, still I could not take it off, without it, the

house would appear empty and dark, even if it was
false, but for me, it was more beautiful than all
others.

The walls of my home shake, the furniture welt

together, all statues and masterpieces are broken,
the wall itself falls.

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Urgently, I start counting my loose, only the tableau
is safe, no harm caused. I hold it in my arms,
laughing deeply, while strolling among the wrack”
that is the truth, nothing remains but it.” I screamed.

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11- Together ..On the road.

“Let us throw the dice, if it is single; we departure

and if it is couple we go on together.” He suggested.
Her smile narrowed, she hided her eyes,” should we
leave our destiny in fate’s hand?” she asked bitterly.
“Had not it decided our meet? We wouldn’t without
it.” He said “But he chose us for a different
meeting” she explained, “because it was different;
our departure will be so too.” He reverted.
They throw the dice like two kids playing a game.
The number was single. She looked at him
challengingly. He was about to retire, but her
challenge evoked his headiness. Nodding his head,
he said: “Will arrange a farewell party, celebrating
our final night together.”
As she prepared dinner, he busied himself with the
glasses. They did not discuss the departure. He held
her tightly and she kissed him, in the usual way.
Looking into her eyes, it revealed no sorrow, which
would have satisfied his ego. Their brightness did
not fade.
“What shall you do tomorrow?” He asked. “As I
used to do every day. And you?” She asked too, “As

46
every day.” He told her.
To forget is like to swim against waves, sometimes
up, others down; pictures of the past were so salty
in their eyes, struggling against oneself is the
hardest war. They rested on the island of dignity
for a while, then retuned back to the sea.
She wished she were a pearl hidden in a shell as a
treasure love story, lost forever.
He wished he were a sailor, fighting her love’s
waves, until he is broken, until the taste of her days
is faded forever.
Studying sciences, he tried to fetch facts, which
explain the emotions as chemical effects of glands;
the mechanics of love and that tenderness is but an
illusion.
One thing he could not understand, he had forgotten
many women, why she is blinking from each
woman eyes, and says, “She is not me!”
She occupied herself with other people’s sorrows,
trying to lighten their misery, she saw her pain in
theirs, wrote their stories, tried to find all possible
solutions. One thing she could not understand,
every character jumps up and says to her, “it is not
me.”

47
Many years elapsed, they met again in a party held
to celebrate success, shake hands, and they
congratulated each other. Went out together;
he said, “Should we throw the dice again?”
“No, by my will I leave.” She replied.
They two returned to the sea.

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