We Are All Equally Far From Love by Paul Starkey Adania Shiblī

Author:Paul Starkey Adania Shiblī [Adania Shiblī, Paul Starkey]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Literary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781566568630
Publisher: Interlink Publishing Group Incorporated
Published: 2012-11-06T21:00:00+00:00

Some days later, while she was sitting on the balcony of her new house, busy with some papers and boxes, the telephone rang. She picked up the receiver, but there was silence. She went back to the balcony. She sat on a box, and her heartbeats began to choke her, their very rhythm suffocating her. Then she noticed a walnut tree planted at the far end of the garden. Most of its branches hung over the street behind the wall of her house. The tree was beautiful, while her own life was hateful and filthy, and it would always be like that. She looked at the boxes; at least she hadn’t emptied them yet. She stayed sitting there as the sun began to move away slowly to the west. Then the sunset breeze started to blow over the walnut tree, moving its dry leaves in soft, sensual movements, and she froze. She could no longer say this kind of thing, or even think about it, or her sexual desires. She could no longer go near that terrifying area. No one had come near her body for a long time. As the shadows grew longer, the leaves on the walnut tree moved faster, and some of them escaped the branches and flew far, far away beyond the wall, until everything disappeared into the night.

She would kill him. So long as he was alive, she would not to able to live. His mere existence in the land of the living was bringing her infinite pain, and she had to put an end to it. Finally, as she paced up and down in the house, the night began to seem less oppressive. If he came to her she would kill him with the knife. The knife was lying on the table in front of her. She would conceal it in her hand, and just as he was about to rape her, when he was very close to her, she would push it into the middle of his neck from behind, and hold it there until he was dead. By law, she would be defending herself, while he would no longer be alive. She would live a life completely free of him. She wouldn’t accept the weakness of her body any longer. She would kill him. Or perhaps a car accident, which she could help with. The brakes. Or burn him alive in the car. Or she could put a bomb in his bed. First of all, she had to find out where he was living. She would wait for him in the darkness, go up to him, shoot him and it would be all over. He would collapse, then she would shoot him again, to be sure. But where would she get a revolver? She would have to wear black, and carry a gag. She would buy one. She would follow him for a while. Would she have to see him, then? All her imaginary strength dispersed as she visualized him in front of her; her weakness and fear came back to her again, and she began to cry.

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