JamesKaplan
New member
- Dec 14, 2010
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Shehab sat at a three-legged stool in front of the company’s gate, resting his elbow against his knee and bending forward as he smoked at a cigarette. He took a breath, blew out the smoke then examined the cigarette with furrowed eyebrows.
He wore a blue shirt with a black jacket over it. He had grey hair, receding at the sides and a grey moustache that grew right above the middle of his upper lip.
He got to his feet and walked to the other side of the street. He stood over the sidewalk, placing his hands deep into his pockets and shrugging as a cold breeze of air blew. By the time, he was turning on another cigarette, a tall man with a hunched back, slight hair above his forehead and a thin moustache, came walking down the street. He stopped at Shehab, offering his hand to him. “The keys,”
Shehab placed three keys in the man’s hand. “ I’m leaving. Wanna anything?”
“Thanks,” The man wore a similar blue shirt but with a black pullover over it. “Don’t be late. I’ll leave at six in the morning,”
Shehab nodded and waved at the man as he walked down the street, with his head drooping forward and his hands placed in his pockets.
How many days have passed since the last time he saw his wife? A month? He got used to her not being around the house, making some noise in her shrill voice.
All that remained for him was his daughter, Nada.
He lived in a small apartment at the fifth floor in red-bricked building. The street of the building was narrow and filled with noises all day long.
He went up the stairs. The steps were wavy at the sides that he had to walk on the tips of his feet. He stopped at the wooden door of the apartment. It had metal bars painted in green.
Placing one hand at his mouth as he yawned, he knocked at the door.
Nada opened the door, holding a mug of tea in her hand. A red veil stood over her shoulders and her brown hair; fell down to her back in a short braid. She had narrow eyes and a small nose. Her chin was pointed and her ears were rather big but drawn back against her head.
“Wanna eat, now?” Nada said to shehab, sitting with her knees close on the sofa, watching TV and still holding the mug of tea
“If you joined me,” Shehab said, walking out of the bathroom, in his white undershirt, rubbing his wet head with a pink towel. He smiled at his daughter, straightening his hair with his fat fingers.
“I already ate,” she said, “I’ll go to sleep.”
After placing the mug of tea to her side on the sofa, she got to her feet and walked to her room. She stopped on the door of her room and turned to Shehab who stood still in his place, holding the towel against his shoulder.
“Dad,” She said, resting against the frame of the door with her chest and pointing with her fingers. “I talked with Ali and we decided that the wedding party will be next Thursday.” She shook her head and waved with her hand. “I though you just have to know,” she walked to her room and closed the door behind her.
Shehab remained standing in his place, with his feet bare over the crimson carpet and the towel hanging from his shoulder. He seemed to be gazing at someone faraway. Once again, he would be alone, but this time, he’d be alone forever.
The day of his daughter’s wedding came. They made the wedding at the roof of the house. He sat at a wooden chair near the side of the roof. The white shirt was tight, so he had to lower down his trousers to give some freedom to his protruding belly. His fat chin made layers above his green cravat.
The music went on for hours. The pride and the groom started dancing and then friends joined, all smiling and dancing to the raucous beat of the music, the music that would stop in a few hours, and never be played again.
Shehab didn’t move from his chair. Whenever his daughter looked at him, he’d smile swiftly and lower his head to the ground, clicking the tiled floor with his leather shoes.
The wedding ended. Nada was about to leave with her husband, but she patted her husbands hand, smiled at him and walked away to her father who was still sitting with his sight lowered.
“Dad,” Nada said, bowing forward and placing a hand at her father’s shoulder. “I’ll come to visit every week.”
Shehab didn’t raise his head from the ground. He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest then brought his legs closer.
“Dad, are you alright?”
Shehab nodded once again, not saying a word.
“Dad,” She placed a soft kiss over his head, “take care of yourself.”
Nada walked away into her husband’s arms. She descended the stairs slowly, as if not knowing whether to leave or stay.
He wore a blue shirt with a black jacket over it. He had grey hair, receding at the sides and a grey moustache that grew right above the middle of his upper lip.
He got to his feet and walked to the other side of the street. He stood over the sidewalk, placing his hands deep into his pockets and shrugging as a cold breeze of air blew. By the time, he was turning on another cigarette, a tall man with a hunched back, slight hair above his forehead and a thin moustache, came walking down the street. He stopped at Shehab, offering his hand to him. “The keys,”
Shehab placed three keys in the man’s hand. “ I’m leaving. Wanna anything?”
“Thanks,” The man wore a similar blue shirt but with a black pullover over it. “Don’t be late. I’ll leave at six in the morning,”
Shehab nodded and waved at the man as he walked down the street, with his head drooping forward and his hands placed in his pockets.
How many days have passed since the last time he saw his wife? A month? He got used to her not being around the house, making some noise in her shrill voice.
All that remained for him was his daughter, Nada.
He lived in a small apartment at the fifth floor in red-bricked building. The street of the building was narrow and filled with noises all day long.
He went up the stairs. The steps were wavy at the sides that he had to walk on the tips of his feet. He stopped at the wooden door of the apartment. It had metal bars painted in green.
Placing one hand at his mouth as he yawned, he knocked at the door.
Nada opened the door, holding a mug of tea in her hand. A red veil stood over her shoulders and her brown hair; fell down to her back in a short braid. She had narrow eyes and a small nose. Her chin was pointed and her ears were rather big but drawn back against her head.
“Wanna eat, now?” Nada said to shehab, sitting with her knees close on the sofa, watching TV and still holding the mug of tea
“If you joined me,” Shehab said, walking out of the bathroom, in his white undershirt, rubbing his wet head with a pink towel. He smiled at his daughter, straightening his hair with his fat fingers.
“I already ate,” she said, “I’ll go to sleep.”
After placing the mug of tea to her side on the sofa, she got to her feet and walked to her room. She stopped on the door of her room and turned to Shehab who stood still in his place, holding the towel against his shoulder.
“Dad,” She said, resting against the frame of the door with her chest and pointing with her fingers. “I talked with Ali and we decided that the wedding party will be next Thursday.” She shook her head and waved with her hand. “I though you just have to know,” she walked to her room and closed the door behind her.
Shehab remained standing in his place, with his feet bare over the crimson carpet and the towel hanging from his shoulder. He seemed to be gazing at someone faraway. Once again, he would be alone, but this time, he’d be alone forever.
The day of his daughter’s wedding came. They made the wedding at the roof of the house. He sat at a wooden chair near the side of the roof. The white shirt was tight, so he had to lower down his trousers to give some freedom to his protruding belly. His fat chin made layers above his green cravat.
The music went on for hours. The pride and the groom started dancing and then friends joined, all smiling and dancing to the raucous beat of the music, the music that would stop in a few hours, and never be played again.
Shehab didn’t move from his chair. Whenever his daughter looked at him, he’d smile swiftly and lower his head to the ground, clicking the tiled floor with his leather shoes.
The wedding ended. Nada was about to leave with her husband, but she patted her husbands hand, smiled at him and walked away to her father who was still sitting with his sight lowered.
“Dad,” Nada said, bowing forward and placing a hand at her father’s shoulder. “I’ll come to visit every week.”
Shehab didn’t raise his head from the ground. He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest then brought his legs closer.
“Dad, are you alright?”
Shehab nodded once again, not saying a word.
“Dad,” She placed a soft kiss over his head, “take care of yourself.”
Nada walked away into her husband’s arms. She descended the stairs slowly, as if not knowing whether to leave or stay.