Short stories

I moved to one of the tourist enclaves in search of a job opportunity and was actually hired as a security guard in one of the Sharm el-Sheikh hotels. The new position was to cover the night shift and I was very happy about that, because what is more marvelous than being able to relish the beach in solitude with its turquoise hues blending together to paint a scenery of unique beauty?

Since the hotel was perched on a hill, it provided some amazing views to the sea lying underneath. Therefore, I told myself, “What an excellent job this is that wipes all traces of fatigue off my eyes and allows me to fly over the sea as if I were a bird!”

Nonetheless, I stayed constantly alert to ensure the hotel guests were not disturbed, especially since they were foreigners who had traveled from remote places to enjoy some peace over there.

One night, I saw a girl from afar.

I watched her go down some stairs, which I then realized led ...Read more →

Winner of the “One Thousand Nights and Awakening” literary contest

This was over eight years ago, before the statue of the Beauty and the Gazelle was stolen from the heart of the city. She was the last naked woman to parade along Tripoli’s history. I was in the car with my father. He is a traditional man from ElKedoua, a rural region 40 kilometers outside of Tripoli. Despite all the obstacles standing in his path, my father had done well for himself. He had grown up to be a doctor, although he had once desired to become a pilot. Every time he saw a plane cruising the sky he would yell, “Look at that plane! Do you see it? Isn’t it just stunning!”

I remember the shape of his black and narrow eyes, as well as the dark bags under them. I didn’t understand them until recently, when my dreams turned into nightmares that belied their true nature until right before the end.

During my teenage years, we used to hang around the Park of the Gazelle singing songs on ...Read more →

Finalist of the “One Thousand Nights and Awakening” literary contest

Once upon a time, word had it that pleasure could be derived from three things in this world: water, greenery, and a pretty face. I declare that they all coincide in one place called the Nile Cornish.

I was hoping to meet her early that morning at that same place, which became a famous spot for lovers to get together and linger after the movies from the fifties provided a telescope for commoners to admire the world through in black and white.

Breaking my daily routine, I decided to walk to the encounter so as to keep the car window from impairing my ability to enjoy looking at her.

I saw her arrive the moment I got there, slowly approaching with her golden gown and her warmth, which stirs the feelings of nostalgic dreamers.

Eos, nobody matches your beauty when you fall over the banks of the Nile. You extend your rosy fingers to scatter pearls over the blue surface of the Nile and ...Read more →

Finalist of the “One Thousand Nights and Awakening” literary contest

Gilisia is a magical land that is said to have been forged by the wind from Eden that Eve stole when she was banished together with our father Adam to God’s backyard. Afterward, it was inherited by the descendants of her pious children.

The story goes that this idyllic spot was controlled by a ferocious dragon with insatiable bloodlust. Everyone shuddered with horror; fear stroke into people’s hearts and spread throughout the realm like cancer. The harsh punishments meted out to the nation made people lose their strength and lashed them into serfdom. They endured the humiliation in deathly silence and competed against one another to cater to the dragon’s demand for the most precious goods such fertile land had to offer. They delivered until the sources had been drained almost to the last drop. They roamed through green and yellow fields up to the point where their legs would hold their weights no longer. They had no wealth left and fell sick from pure exhaustion. Their silence shattered their dreams and ...Read more →

Finalist of the “One Thousand Nights and Awakening” literary contest

Caption: Hussein Square, three o’clock in the afternoon.

The heat is suffocating. It is either that or the salt my body clings to that makes me sweat even during wintertime. My mother tells me to hurry up and so I lazily pick up my pace. I stare at the front of the modernized mosque, at the badge crowning it with God’s name, and at the electronic umbrellas that open to shelter people gathering to attend the Friday prayer from the sun. The square is divided in half by an iron palisade that opens and closes if need be. The first half bustles with street vendors putting their cheap Chinese ware on display, tramps, women painting with henna, and farmers who have traversed hundreds of kilometers to receive the blessing of the House of the Prophet. The second half, outside the mosque’s precinct, is where the tourists amble about around the coffee shops, the tourist restaurants, and the bazaars selling the antiques the place is crammed with. ...Read more →

Second prize holder of the “One Thousand Nights and Awakening” literary contest

I didn’t know the bus was going to drive by Abbassiyyin Square. I had been trying to avoid the square for the past two years, but the elderly driver had decided to round it, heedless of the anguish it might cause passengers to cut across an area loyal to the ranks of the Front.

The bus approaches the entrance to the square bordering the Zabaltani district and drives past some big rubber tires scattered on the side of the road. Despite my stress-induced alertness, at that moment I fail to curb the tide of memories flooding back and drowning my brain. We take a right turn in front of the big sports center named after the square: Abbassiyyin International Sports Center. I had spent hours in front of that building over the last few years, waiting for any means of transport to arrive and take me home to the inner part of the Eastern Ghouta suburbs.

We hadn’t called it Eastern Ghouta back then. ...Read more →

The fire had spared the conspicuous facial features, the rumors, and the fingerprints left on the white bread. The bicycles, as many as there were people living inside that gray house, had been left unscathed as well. The impression one got from scanning the area, from the color of the open doors to the farther corners lying behind the white scarf, was that of a thwarted welcome, barely muttered by the wind, which made the scarf sway like a handheld fan commanding the outsider to enter and descend to the most dismal place imaginable. It was a spot where the honor of sitting on the ground and reveling in a sumptuous feast ought to be bestowed upon the newcomer. The very first seed had been devised here, the source of all genius and battle.

He started repairing the pedal thread of his bicycle, which had lost some metal teeth due to a failure in the gears charged with stabilizing the chain rings. This time, the kick that usually removed the need to resort to a surgical intervention ...Read more →

It was the fourth day of my trip to the South.

And it was my first time visiting the mosque of Abu Haggag, although I had been in al’Aqsar before. After taking a walk around the mosque, my digital camera gave me a real sense of what was standing before my eyes. Its actual weight had eluded me until that precise moment, since in order to be able to fully comprehend it I first needed to climb to the balcony of the mosque and contemplate the temple from above. The call to prayer began to sound while I stood there. I thought the place was stunning. It truly inspired me! Hence, I began to mull over its gravity.

Suddenly, a girl interrupted my musings, asking without any sort of preamble, “Are you married?”

I turned my head toward her and gazed at the beauty of her face, as well as the long, loose black garb she was wearing. She had sparked my curiosity and I was hoping to start a conversation with her to find out why, ...Read more →

Her balcony is just a couple of meters across from his. During winter, the sun slants through it and stretches its edges with warmth and tenderness. His balcony, across from hers, however, is plagued by the cold, which gives him shivers and drains him. His teeth chatter, the clothing he wears fails to provide him with the necessary shelter for him to remain on the balcony, his ass flees like the wind, and the opportunity for the encounter he has so desperately yearned for vanishes with it. The sun cruises the sky time and again and, accordingly, things end up changing from top to bottom. He finds himself embraced by the sun on his balcony while the cold ferociously pounces on her and bites her on hers, forcing her to beat a hasty retreat into her bedroom. She stays close to the stove, hoping for it to inject some lost consistency and balance into her system, but she doesn’t feel comfortable squeezed by its arms. She would rather reveal herself to him, allow him to reveal himself to her. Yet, he thereupon retreats into his ...Read more →

The morning is behaving itself.

She totters in her diaphanous robe next to Antonio toward the stone cavity on the seashore. The breeze irks the temper-prone lover with its saucy gaiety. Antonio is torn between blaming his bewilderment on either the treasures on display or the impudent jerk harassing his beloved. On the threshold of the eastern access to the royal bath he promises to wait for her as long as it takes and to refrain from ogling her, as he just did. He repeats this over and over again while his blatant lies set his cheeks on fire.

A smile of disbelief plays on her enticing lips, and by letting her eyelids fall over her sleepy and suggestive eyes, she shows how little she cares about whether his statements conflict with the truth. The hollow stone swallows her, and Antonio, “the sentinel,” tries in his petrified state to monitor the universe so that it not to outwit him, as it obviously likes to sin the same way he does—by sneaking covert peeks.

Antonio hasn’t noticed ...Read more →