3 o'clock in the morning, and then the clock hands stop, my watch, the wall clock, and every clock ticking life in the house. This is how I felt for a moment.
Insomnia grows in my eyelids; I felt a desire to vomit though I didn't eat anything since this afternoon. Tight closure and malaise squeeze me, God what do I do? I wish I can wash off, and pray, kneeling twice to purge my soul that's burdened with ashes.
I dragged my feet outside, rain drizzles surprised me dropping slowly on the garden's bush, a silent sad rain as if it wants to plunge me more into my plight.
"Even the rain -Hend- does not have a taste anymore..... Its taste has changed to what I don't know how it became"
"With no difference in between it and my most miserable plight....... it tastes like constant insomnia and cigarettes"
It's like streets are silently crying and the lamps are praying; the house garden resembles cemeteries; only rain is breathing and I stood there and started crooning an old melody:
“The voice of sleepless people has passed by me, in the holiday eve”.
God kill him! That Dookhy guy! What a melodious voice he had!
Nothing interrupted me but my neighbors' window quietly opening; I knew already who it was going to be!
The same damn neighbor, a girl in her late twenties, killing remotely yet she knows.
Oh you licentious! I said it to myself.
She turned on the light, held her infant and stood by the window, and gently showed her breast and started feeding the baby.
A white round mushy thing dripping libido, appeared like an untamed colt, was glistening in her black baggy home-dress.
Oh you licentious! I mumbled it this time!
I rushed inside to open the fridge, and returned to house porch by the front door, and raised the 2-liter fresh milk bottle and swilled it!
I have milk too ....u licentious.
Translated by : Abdulhadi Mohammad
