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THE LAST PEARL
MAN
And still, every time I go to the city beach I see him as if he never
leaves his place, just remaining of a human covering his body
with his yellow wrapper and his old T-shirt noting a staples song
I hear it melodious brassy and solicitous tempt you to hear it and
it annoys you if the sound of the caring machines which brought from
out the city exceeded on it lifting half ton rocks above each other
hiding the sea crouching on it’s soft golden sands and what stayed
of the shells splinters.
One evening, I offered him my desire in helping him as he wanted. He
pricked me with his sharp looks before leaving me walking towards
his ship. I followed him with my sight while he was entering to
it’s trunk. I heard after a song rattle through each of his
knocking on the ship wall.
After finishing city beach decorating, a bigger van came and started
carrying the wooden ships, which existed on the coast long and
took it to a far place to the west.
On a witty night, I saw him for the first time walking towards the sea
while his ship was capered by iron having in the air and the crowbar
on a truck. I was pleased with him in spite of his walking to the
sea in spite of the crowbar sounds and the roaring of the iron chins
and the mooning of the whistling air which came out of the ship
trunk and the sea roaring sea birds I still heard his song because
it reached me this time dying hardly to hear. I turned towards the
west where the trucks one after another got smaller and
disappeared in the red sun disk. A plane passed over my head
emoting black smoke moving like a snake towards the city
airport and penetrated into the clouds. It disappeared for minutes
before appearing again. For years the sky was pregnant with clouds
but no rains fell. We prayed for rains but still no rains.
I looked again at him I couldn't see much of him except his head
touched by the waves and swallowed by the sea.
Doha – April 1999 |