103

Mayday of locusts

From Republic Street, first Faisal

Between Sharif and Saudi Al-Sanadili Streets

Corona time, fireworks and firecrackers

and drugs

Mayday of locusts

The youngsters of Tal Sabria, a gypsy, wrote their calls for help on palm fronds, tied them to the feet of homing pigeons, and sent them to all parts of the earth. Parents closed the doors and balconies of the tents, fearing that swarms of crazy locusts would enter to kill their young.

  The sky of the oases of the Lesser Desert became dark after it was covered by millions of large yellow and small red locusts, which prevented the sun's rays from reaching the earth.

The paths of the deserts were empty of passers-by, and the tents of sale were closed, so the merchants fled to their tents, and all the institutions and hospitals were closed, except for the houses of worship, which opened their doors to the poor, the needy, the wayfarers, and those who do not have a place to stay until the locusts leave.

The locusts insisted on staying in the skies of the green oases in the Lesser Desert and occupied the paths and the roofs of the tents.

  The terror of the children reached its extreme when seeing the locusts trying to break through the barriers to reach them.

The temperature dropped to much below zero as a result of the convergence of frost waves emanating from the two frozen oceans north and south, and the young children still put their fingertips on the palm fronds for the pigeons to carry their distress, and the general view was fixed.

Twenty years passed over the frozen region, and with the separation of the strange cold waves, life began to flow into the oases, and children's distress calls were sent to every place in the world via the carrier

The place of distress was determined, and help came from the neighboring countries, so that the locusts left, delusional that a wave of frost was coming, which they abhor. The people of the neighborhood returned to their normal lives after twenty years had passed, and the world had moved into a new era.

 

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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