Author: Rita Tapia Oregui

At eight o’clock in the evening I climbed briskly up the ladder to the plane at Istanbul’s airport that was going to take me back to Kuwait. A stewardess smiled at me and I smiled back while checking the boarding pass to see what seat I had been assigned. The number—E 11—remains etched in my memory. I reached my row and saw a young girl sitting next to the window. She was curled up in a ball and had her coat pulled up over her head. To be fair, the temperature inside the plane was rather low. By the way she was dressed, one would be justified in saying that she could not afford to have a sense of style. She had African traits.

The girl briefly turned her face toward me, allowing me to catch a glimpse of her eyes. They looked red. It had to be either stress or exhaustion. I sat down in the seat next to hers. My heart was pounding quickly. With bated breath I asked myself, “What’s ...Read more →

After my stay abroad, I returned to my hometown, which I had missed sorely, and everything seemed even more splendorous than prior to my departure. The trees were tall and their flowers had bloomed. The birds warbled beautifully. The air was pure to such an indescribable extent that it served as a cure to several respiratory diseases. I had spent the better part of my halcyon youth and probably the best days of my life in this small town. While away, I had hankered to go back so strongly that I ended up having to bust a gut just to enjoy my stay abroad after a fashion. On top of that, one day I learned that my mother had fallen ill. There is nothing like knowing your doting mother is suffering while you are far away from her to make you feel less than enthusiastic about embarking on new adventures. I had just been offered a position as a physician in my hometown, and my new priority was to make certain that every resident received the best ...Read more →

Mustafa was in his twenties. He had gone to university, where he had met Hayam as a freshman. She had been a classmate of his. He proposed as soon as he graduated and went to ask her father for her hand in marriage. Hayam’s father was a prominent civil servant and didn’t welcome the idea of Mustafa marrying his daughter since he didn’t have a job. However, at his daughter’s insistent bidding, he finally consented to their engagement.

Months passed, but the situation remained the same. Mustafa had been looking for a job but hadn’t gotten lucky so far.

One rainy night, his fiancée called him on the phone and told him that her father was intent on breaking their engagement. She also told him that she had no choice but to accept her father’s decision, because he had tried to strangle her.

Mustafa hung up, frothing at the mouth and feeling desperate. His fiancée was the only one who cared for him and supported him. He knew that she couldn’t just run away, because then she’d have to spend the rest of her life looking over her ...Read more →

My steps falter as I amble along the riverbank. The house I grew up in lies close to the well belonging to the town of Quaà Asserasse. I feel a bit wobbly on my legs, unable to brave the wind, which I fear may mistake me for a leaf and send me flying away any minute. Getting high on an empty stomach does that to you. I have been mulling over the possibility of returning for a while now. However, I wonder whether by any chance there is a way of returning to something slightly different from what first brought me into being—whether there is something that will embrace the person I have become. Go figure. The only thing I know for certain is that regardless of how grown-up I consider myself to be now, I feel a little bit more like the child I used to be with every step I take toward home.

Minutes later, I arrive at the front door. The curtains on the door are drawn. I can hear jbala music and smell the sweet scent of fish ...Read more →

After the service was over at al-Hamd Mosque, I headed out into the street. I couldn’t bring myself to recall the subject the sermon had touched on. It had not only been long and repetitive, but also atrociously rendered to boot. However, it had at least allowed me time to psych myself up for my upcoming appointment.

I crossed the paved road that ran parallel to the Mahmoudiyah Canal and arrived at the beginning of Mercy Street. In 500 meters, I would have to overcome what had kept me away from him for 35 years. He used to glare daggers at me, to the point where I began dreading the very idea of stumbling across him. It was only natural that all these years later I cringed at the thought of seeing him again, especially after estimating the amount of rage that must have welled up inside him over time. I walked gingerly, minding the gap between the train and the platform. After all, time does not ...Read more →

We were being held captive inside the Great Mosque’s courtyard. The sky above us was an eerie pitch-black. We had been locked up by a one-eyed ogre that seemed to have sprung up from a squalid dungeon in hell. It beggared belief how much terror he had spread. He had decapitated innocents, and as the fine necromancer he had proven to be, he had managed to sow corruption in the Levantine territories. He had driven dozens of people to the brink, but not us, because we knew that we had God on our side. We had begged Him to send us one of His warriors to gouge out the demon’s only eye and free us from him.

We knew our prayers had been answered when we saw a knight descend from the sky enveloped in a halo of light and riding a creature that looked like an angel. The knight placed his hands over the angel’s wings to bring it to a halt. The crowd inside the mosque had never ...Read more →

The clock struck 10:30 p.m. Desire was surrounded by his bags, standing alone in the dark alley. Some inscrutable force had dragged him to where he was now, in front of a building whose familiar-looking and serenity-radiating façade veneered its incandescent core. He poked his head through the door.

He gained access to the interior and then hauled himself up the staircase to where Life dwelt. He was all in a stew, a boiling one, showering sparks that were eager to weld together into lightning. Immediately after opening the door, they fell into each other’s arms. She swayed on her feet, and he allowed her to rock him to sleep so that he could fish for his dreams in her bosom and emblazon them on reality.

She had known he would return to her one day, for she had fed the meek side of his personality for years. She was positive that he was unable to resist her charms and thus was as happy as a clam. He pressed an ardent kiss on her lips, and after all the time ...Read more →

On the morning of the Sham Ennisim holiday, peace reigned in our town, save for our house, which had been set in motion at the crack of dawn. I had been the first to jump out of bed and had then scurried from room to room to wake up my parents, my sister, and my brothers.

“Hurry up, it’s time to go!”

I packed a whole rucksack with sandwiches and put Pepsi and water bottles in plastic bags while waiting for the rest of my family to fully dress and primp themselves. Finally, my father finished using the john and we stepped out of the house, closing the door behind us.

At noon, we arrived at a bustling city. We left the car close to a long bridge whose piers lay underwater. I looked at my dad and asked him, “Are these the Benevolent Bridges?” He replied in the affirmative.

We stopped to contemplate the clear waters of the river and the bridge’s arches, which looked like doorposts with water flowing ...Read more →

This is the story of two individuals who despite sharing 25% of their genome lived in times that seem eons apart. She is standing in the biggest and most famous city square, which has received different names over the centuries. It is bordered by historic buildings. One of them is notable for tracing its history back to the pre-Islamic era, while another one, the red one, flaunts a plate noting that its construction dates back to the era before Christ—veritably before history itself started to be recorded.

While history runs its course, Sara must wait. She is meeting a man who has promised to get her a joint. Over here, hash is a definite no-no for women. So are cigarettes in general. Smoking is strictly forbidden. Forty years ago, she used to hang out with friends and smoke in this same square. It was allowed back then. Furthermore, in front of where she is positioned right now, there used to be a pub called OEA, like the beer brand. However, that’s also ...Read more →

Sami was lolling in the garden of the Nile’s island that lays in front of the Egyptian Opera House. He was surrounded by tall buildings and big boats that threw a blue glow on the calm waters of the river, lighting it up at night. In the background, he could hear the deafening music that was always blaring out of the speakers installed inside the boats, which took not only tourists but also locals for a brief trip along the Nile; they gave all those racked with pain a short break from their everyday lives. For almost half an hour, they could lose the crosses they had to bear onshore. Sami, however, was not paying heed to the music of the boats. He had his headphones on and was listening to music he had downloaded from the Internet, which acted as a magical world of sorts. It stood in stark contrast to the real world where one was forced to comply with the allotted default setting when listening to music, when ...Read more →