NOUVELLE

L.E.L.E

POISSON                                                                  Monday, 28th, November 2015
Benjamin                                                                                         603

ORDER:

What happen to the servant when he arrived at Samarra?
Tell the story from his point of view.

        Fear, fear… Yeah, that’s the perfect word I had in mind when I was standing on my horse, heading to Samarra.

About one and a half hour of riding, this gruesome heat and stress made me feel a bit mad and fuzzy. So, I decided to take some rest, in Baqubah, a city, nearly half way from Bagdad to Samarra. Here, in a market, I met Jamshid; he was making the same journey as me. That was a guy full of mirth. He managed to decode my fake smile (because I was still afraid of what happened early on…) and he found creep in it.

We were sitting in the middle of the market, the Great Market, as they call it, on a huge goldish coloured rug. He invited me for a tea at one of his friend’s house, around the town.
-“No thanks, Jamshid” I responded “Thanks a lot, but, I have to go I think”.

-“Okay!” he said, and he asked me, while putting his sleeves up, if I wanted him to join me to go to Samarra. I agreed. So I took my horse, tethered on a fence, at the entrance of the Great Market. And then, we raced up on our horse, heading once again to Samarra…

About two hours later, we finally arrived in Samarra. During the travel, I explained to Jamshid my whole situation.

I thought I was finally safe, at this very moment.

Jamshid had family in Samarra, so, as I looked oppressed, he invited me to his house. It was a small, made-out-of-dirt type of house. We arrived in there at about ten o’clock the night was falling. Some members of his family were sitting in great rug, similar at the one of the Great Market, in the middle of the main room. Among which, there was a tall and thin old woman, with reddish eyes; she starred at me during the whole dinner.

Some flying bugs were starting to show up, it was one a.m. Almost everyone was drunk, except me. The family decided to digest outside the house, in the fresh and dark night. I didn’t want to go, I was too exhausted, and Jamshid told me to stay and sleep in his place.

The only person who stayed was the eerie old woman, she was barely noticeable, and her face was half-covered by a great, no, a huge hood.

I was kind of afraid by that person, and, in addition of that, no sounds were coming from the place where Jamshid’s family was. It was the total silence, a deadly and cold silence. I was alone, standing here, on my pseudo sleeping carpet. I didn’t know what to do. I was wondering if she was going to go or not…

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