Whatever Happens Between Man And Wife Is No One Else’s Business

Blue house in Cairo, Egypt

The sun shone, announcing the beginning of a brand new day. The ashtray was crammed with cigarette butts. He performed his ablutions and proceeded with the prayer. He closed his eyes in order to wake up to the sound of the Muslim nation, which, in a gesture of motherly love, flung its arms around him and pressed a kiss on his cheeks before leaving in peace. Right then she started going down the stairs. She told him she was going out to run some errands. Something made him follow her with his eyes to see whether she turned right or left past the front door. However, by the time he had craned his head backwards, she had faded away. He rubbed his eyes and cast a last quick look around to make sure she was gone, allowing her absence to settle inside him. He then rushed to unload his luggage, which he had packed just a few days earlier when his life in the country had gotten complicated and the only choice he felt he had was to leave for ...Read more

My Town

Street in Damietta, Egypt

It’s half past ten and the sun paints my room gold. Like a retired vampire, I am awaiting nightfall in order to go out. The streets summon me as I bask in the warmth of the sun’s rays clinging to my back. They caress me softly without forcing me to close my eyes. I walk aimlessly, with a head free of windmills. The streets are still empty; the children are trapped in school. I could stroll around forever. Everything in my town is within walking distance. I even think about bundling it up and thrusting it in my pocket: the narrow entrance to my grandmother’s house; the small wooden boat on the shelf; the shelf next to the photo albums that play music when opened; my favorite café; my old place; the street with the church on it; the street with my old school; the uncomfortable benches of the Nile Corniche; the girls that mesmerize us with their beautiful voices as the evening wears on, whose countenances blanch with apprehension at my leering; the smell of fish baked ...Read more

People

Manshiyat Naser, Cairo's Garbage City

On the crest of the old Mokattam Hills, behind which rise the Dawiqa Hills, hid our houses, many of which were sheltered behind a massive rock.

We lived in a district called Al-Mu’adaseh, where everyone’s garbage and litter is thrown. To be more specific, we lived on the farms of Manshiet Nasser.

Like the church bells that summoned us to attend the holy prayer, daybreak propelled us into action. For hours the twines of morning light flogged the burning skin on our bodies with their exhortation. We lugged the day’s weariness along into the night, where the sleep we had hoped to find kept us meandering around, because it turned out to be as barren as the wasteland in which we had lain down to rest. We crouched down, almost deflating, like the hiss of a murky patch of light amid the darkness, and from the peak of our mountains, we leaned out to a sleeping world. We swooped on it like thieves of the night hunting for flotsam and jetsam. We descended the tortuous slope whose ...Read more

Egypt’s Railway Station

Egypt’s Railway Station in Cairo

Drizzle and one half of an orange solar disc hallow January, which crops up behind the few hours it has left to perform and spreads its attire to wrap up Cairo before pronouncing its blessings.

The steps of the passersby, the whistles of the policemen, the shouts of the street vendors, and the bells announcing the departure of a train at times build mirthful music to welcome the ones who have been gone. On occasion the sounds compose music to bid farewell to the ones leaving, resonating like pansy petals falling from above.

With a nifty red dress that turns her into birthday’s iconic image, as if she were a princess who had just popped out of a fairy tale, she strides back and forth from the entrance of the station to the old coffee shop with its new poster, plastic chairs, and bright yellow tablecloths.

With her uncombed locks of hair out in the open, she keeps an eye on the trains pulling into the station and the ones scheduled to arrive soon.

My eyes are glued to the ...Read more

God’s Island

Sehel or Seheil Island, Nubian location next to Aswan in Egypt

The first day and the last are certainly the most difficult to cope with: the anxieties before the get-together and the feeling of loss at the farewells, the always deceitful expectations, and the pain one has to keep in check over the past left behind.

Last night was fraught. My blood pressure descended as quickly as the pressure from my thoughts and feelings bouncing around in my skull escalated. I rose way later than what I’d become accustomed to in the last ten days. I exert myself more than usual to enhance my appearance in front of the mirror. I apply the same concealer I use for my face to my feelings.

I spend the day unable to concentrate, bearing an absent mind. I recap everything in my head: the return trip with my heavy bags, whose added load of presents and souvenirs purchased at Aswan’s bazaar had more than doubled their weight and bulkiness; and my new dear friends from the workshop who all, ...Read more

Alessandra

Sunset by the sea in Sharm al-Sheikh, Egypt

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

Love on the Banks of the Nile

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

6. story1

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

The Costume

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

el-hussein-mosque

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

The Daughter of Abu Haggag

3. story 2

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 and His Balcony

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

Choose your own adventure

The story goes as follows: Boy meets girl, boy falls for girl, and girl turns out to be

a) a slut.

b) a city.