Chapter ( 1 )

Fathia is a very beautiful girl , white , , greasy , appetizing , well rounded and bulky; she is particularly fat but well propionate and tall that is my weak point , to have a well rounded girl .it may go to a fetish , she doesn’t know me at first . I used to look at her loin de loin as they say in French . Fathia’s mother cooks well , we sometimes go to

her house to cook us couscous , at first , I couldn’t understand her mother’s way of looking , very strong , calling people to her , only I want to speak about Fathia . yes , Fathia was brought up to be a whore , some people said they saw her in Alexandria , I saw her in one of the streets in Cairo , she was hot , I said :

- Salam Fathia, hi Karakipo ( her nickname ) .

– Do you know me ? she asked in surprise.

- I used to come to your house to make couscous with my cousin .

- Oh, yes , that skinny girl.

- Can I see you again Karakipo ?

- I’m busy , I m not free.

- What do you do ? I asked meaningfully .

- I earn my life , now I have four children and my husband is dead.

- Bye Fathia. see you later . I wanted to speak with her longer .

- see you soon , welcome any time at my home . it is strange to say

I’m not free and then she says welcome at home any time , may be

she remembered her profession ; and she isn’t free , means , she

has a business to do now. I’ m your business , too. I wanted to say

that , but , it was awkward , it was the first time to speak with her .

She went straight on . I looked at her back with her great hunches . I keep thinking of her . how much I want her . when will I have her in her bed ?. my mouth was watering , and I licked my lips . Where will she go ? anyway, I’ll keep on knocking at her door . I went back home where I live with my two sisters . one brother and my mother , my father was dead .after two days , I went to Fathia’s house, I knocked at her door. It was evening , I know nobody is with her by that time .

- who is it ?

- It’s me .

- welcome , how are things going ? she said encouragingly .

- Fine .I’d like to say something but I’m scared you may shock me .

- no , I won’t , we are neighbors . she was smiling tempting me to say what I feel . I was hesitating how I tell her I’m interested in her.

- I ‘ve been thinking. I was hesitating how I reach her the idea of how I love her .

- in what ?

- everything.

- like what ?

- like why I love you ? why I come to see you? I asked , In fact , I want to strike the iron when it is heated , my policy is to attack at once , I’m not going to be suffering and thinking of her all nights .

- so soon, am I magnetism ?

- you are like flower of lily , you are terrific , I haven’t seen such beauty , I wanted to speak with you long ago .

- thanks , I think I’m your bon appetit . she seems that she knows what I’m after . she was speaking caressingly and welcomingly but with solace . her eyes had promises and vows.

- nevertheless, you look sad . I said .

- my mother is sick.

- where is she now ?

- she is in hospital , El ” Hussein hospital at Darassa .

- I’ll visit her tomorrow .

- don’t bother yourself .

- I’ m sorry for that.

- don’t worry . shall I bring you a cup of tea ? she meant this offer .

- yes please . after the tea , I held her fat hand , then I asked her .

- I’d like to sleep with you . she looked straight boldingly at me, she forgot the illness of her mother .

- let’s go to my bed room , she obeyed submissively . that is my type.

I don’t like the pugnacious one . she is delicious , her body so, soft , to the touch , she interacts with me , she gives and takes. I feel tenderness in her eyes . I feel true welcoming , while I feel falsehood in other women’s eyes , stoicism and carelessness, but in hers, there is real attention ,real care .

I don’t give her money only some presents , I take from her everything. She likes my selfishness ,she never makes me feel that I’m selfish . you never met the speaking eyes , her eyes speak , her black eyebrows are bowed . her nose is shy , her mouth is flickering . she is always ready to reply you ; the decorum in her reply, she is that kind of women you feel you want to come to her a lot of times , she is not that sort of woman you can’t forget .who is going to forget that beauty? .

My house is before hers . she lived in the ground floor . I lived on the second floor . At night I looked at her window ,she doesn’t know or care whether anyone peeps at her , how beautiful her thighs were , like two white neon lamps .the blood runs in my veins .

In the morning I’ll wait for her at the bus stop . I found her jumping into the bus I ran after her. I I kept stuck to her soft body . I felt such a sensation. I can’t describe such feelings , although I was in her bedroom only yesterday night

- what do you want ?

- I want to live with you .

- you can’t , I’ve children , besides, you know my job.

- you can find a decent one .

- I looked for it everywhere . even when I served in the houses . men were greedy and lecherous .

- it is because of your wealthy, reddish , buttery , watery and inviting body .

- I can’t change it , a leopard can’t change his spots .

- I ‘ll wait you at seven o’ clock , we can go to the park of Darassa .

– OK .

I waited from 4 o’clock till 7 o’ clock , dreaming what I will do with her or with her body . We will go to one of those heavy bushes , I ‘ll feel her body with my bare hands . I’ll squeeze her breasts , her belly her thighs. I’ll kiss her strawberry lips. But she didn’t come .

I woke up from my day dreams . I think I should stop thinking of her . I won’t see her again . how she forgot my date ,but may be she went to visit her mother at the hospital , may be she is ill herself . I comforted myself . I think it’s a sort of self – pity , self- conviction . Next day when I see her, I won’t run after her in the bus . I’ ll take another bus.

There are girls you can speak with ,others you feel bored with them . there are others you are paralysed before them . Fathia is different .I was waiting the bus when she was walking –like Lord Byron, “she walks in beauty ” Fathia is shaking every part of her delicious , luscious perfect blemish less body in walking .

- why didn’t you come the other day? .

- one of my children was ill I couldn’t come

- you lie , you were with another man you were doing business

- whatever , what will you do ?

- nothing , but don’t tell lies . I want you to tell me whether you care

for me or not ?

- I don’t know . I don’t care about other people , but you are different .

- you have some thing I can’t explain .

- you mean you love me ?

- what is love ? love is a waste of time .

- o k the bus comes . I’ll see you at the park of Darassa .at 7 o’clock p.m

- God willing.

This time I didn’t believe she’d come so I was half an hour late . to my surprise I found her waiting for me .

- Salam , Fathia . how are you ? I didn’t expect you’d come .

- I don’t want you to be angry .

I put my hands on hers as if my hands mudded in butter , she was blushing , her cheeks were red ,her eyes were tearful, blazing tenderly with love , she said ,

- can we change places so that I can see your eyes better .

- why ?

- you have such dark brownish anguish eyes . I agreed .

time passes fast with her . we spent six hours. I intended to hug or kiss her and to go into the bushes , but I didn’t . we only talked , she said :

- I used to have a headache , but it has gone .

- I’ll wait for you tomorrow

- no I couldn’t .

- why ?

- I just couldn’t .

- you ‘ll do some thing .

- it isn’t of your business . I said good bye furiously .

Of course , I’ve some girl friends in the faculty , but they are colleagues . I have a friend called Dorria , but she lives in Agouza and loves another neighboring boy friend . I have another girl called Nahed her father was a professor , but she looks like a doll with her complete make up . I was very poor . there was no much money in Egypt by that time . I loved Maha very much . I was too shy to talk to her . she was very rich she was living in El Ahram street in Giza . I feel suffocating when I draw near her . I wrote for her my first poem , it was childish but it was good .she was different , she was delicate.

I told my friend Dorria about her , that how I love Maha , and how I can’t speak with her

- I can help you talking to this girl

- I ,m scared to death .

- is she Nahed ? she asked guessingly.

- no , she isn’t , I can’t tell you her name I just can’t

- you will feel better .

- listen Dorria , I can’t tell you about her name . that is it .

One day in summer in our vacation I went with my friend Ahmad ; one of my colleague to Fouad Street ; down town at” Al “Americain” , a sort of café shop I met Maha there , with her old mother, but I couldn’t believe it was Maha , she changed her hairstyle altogether .