gypsy worlds

61

the Red

From Republic Street, first Faisal

Between Sharif and Saudi Al-Sanadili Streets

Corona time, fireworks and firecrackers

and drugs

the Red

Ba ba .. ta ta .. sa sa .. A group of overlapping and unclear voices emanate from the mouth of the fat red man who came a year ago to attend the mawlid of Sidi Boumedieh in Tal Ghajar Boumedieh in the central desert, like all the other dervishes, to participate in the remembrance of the place in the square Boumedieh throughout the days of birth.

Bahloul Al-Ahmar stands in front of the butcher and takes a small piece of meat, bites it unevenly, and goes on to follow him, the kids slapping him or pulling his clothes.

The month passed and Bahloul did not leave the neighborhood with the end of the birth of Sidi Boumedieh, and he preferred to reside next to him, rather than the rest of the righteous saints of God. The three deserts and their chief bandit, Sadeem al-Rukbiyya, raid the richness of the oases of the three deserts and leave loaded with spoils. Evening comes and Bahloul stands in the crowd. His ears extend to the conversations of the people of the neighborhood chatting and boasting about the sources of their rich wealth from the sale of rare artifacts buried in the depths of the desert, so he runs. To his residence in the cemetery to send his messages to his master specifying the burial places and sleep.

The morning comes when Sadeem raids the places of burial and strips them of all their contents. He kills the men of the neighborhood. He takes women captive to become his slaves. Bahloul al-Ahmar gifts ten of them because of his constant love for beauties, which he did not show in the looks of his constant search for his goals among the tents of the neighborhood’s paths.

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A short story by / Mahmoud Hassan Farghaly

Member of the Writers Union

Member of the Syndicate of Film Professions

mahmoudhassanfarghaly@yahoo.com

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