Shams Saghira 12

October 26, 2007


Fahd, shouting, “Take that!”

He pulled the razor out of the flesh, twisting it a bit. Abu Fahd clung to the mud wall, and raised his dagger again, but the drunk stabbed him a second time in the chest, then stabbed him a third time in the shoulder, and Abu Fahd‘s arm immediately went limp and hung to the side. His fingers let go of the dagger and it dropped to the ground.

The drunk was shouting and jumping around yelling, “Take that! Take that!”

He stabbed him in the hip and Abu Fahd moaned, he felt weak suddenly in his knees, and he tried to stay standing up firmly, but the razor was still after him, piercing his flesh and ripping it to shreds without mercy. He stabbed him in the stomach, and his guts spilled out. Abu Fahd pressed his hands against his insides, they were warm and wet and gave a final shudder. They spilled out and poured to the ground, and he collapsed on his back. The drunk was standing and leaning over him nearby. The drunk coughed several times, and then vomited. He then raced away.

Abu Fahd heard the sheep saying to him, “Seven jugs of
gold…” And then the gold tumbled down, shining like little suns.

Then the voice started, bit by bit, to drift away.


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