Darkness blended into light, as the old man's eyelids slowly opened. In a modest, dimly lit room, was a bed, with fresh white linens, an armchair next to a reading lamp, and a tray containing various objects. The old man ran his large course hands over the outline of his face as he attempted to gather himself and determine how long he had been unconscious.
The village fair was alive with the sounds of children playing, chickens pecking here and there, and women laughing over cups of tea and sweet-smelling bread. Travelers came from afar to purchase rare jewels and trade their goods with each other. A single man would leave married, and an empty-handed child would leave with pockets full of trinkets and knickknacks from faraway lands.
When Fuad arrived at the fair, however, none of these attractions tempted him into abandoning his goal, which was the Storyteller. To all young people of Cor, Fuad’s kingdom, it was the Storyteller who was the heart and essence of the fair.
Post-Rainbow & BeyondI am Violet A sibling of purple,lurking deep in the moody side of the spectrum. The colour of sigh, and of longing! Fools crowd my lair,but angels fear to treadIndigo— I is the Ego—
My father I prose to you With Allah above as Witness. Hasn’t He gifted you by me In obedience to you, a dutiful daughter Your pleasure, the boast of your laughter.
My father To you is your nationality That blinds you To you is your culture That suppresses you To you is your arrogance That overwhelms you.
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