The Elahim Brothers

Red Aim

I sat at window.
Adored a yellow butterfly that sat and flustered it's delicate wings and spoke with me in silence.

What is happening to me?
I rested my head closer to the butterfly. Something in me envy her. She is beautiful, she is yellow dipped in gold, she can fly, she doesn't have the chains to drag her down, she doesn't have a life so long as mine to drown. She will die in an hour or two, in a day if so. There will be questioning. No Hell fire, no heaven. This no greed resides in her nor fear.

"Dear can you lay out the breakfast? " Mrs Kasheefa calls.

I took the tray out. They sat all,tgeir backs straight, head high, knees gathered, their spines erect in parellel lines.

I greeted Al-Hassan as he sat.

"Good morning Miss Falaq-Naaz " Al-Wildan smiled.

"Good Morning Al-Wildan " I smiled back.

"Good morning Al-Shizad " I greeted his grumpy face, he crossed smiled.

"Good morning Al-Wais "
I greeted.

"Good Morning Naaz"
He said.

I halted,my mouth slightly left open hanging in the air, the breaths halted, the spoons before their mouths halted, the servants stopped. The birds chirping in the background stopped. The clock ticked. The silence stayed. He gulped.

"pass me the butter" he said.

Everybody resumed. My hands trembled. I had chills on my spine, my hair standing on my hands.
Nobody dare look at him. He avoided all.
My heart was beating quick and steep.
I could not eat.

The sentence ran through the room. The silence was struggling.

I looked at him. He was as embarrassed but less portraying.

Naaz.... Naaz?

I sorted the dishes.

I sat with my father. He did not speak. I do not understand him but I cannot forgive him. Like he can't forgive me.

I read the third book in the list The girl with the dragon Tattoo.
I ate an apple. Saw the sunset. Sigh.
Saw the yellow sky turning pink. Sighed. Pink into purple. Purple to violet, violet to dark. Pitch black with white freckles.

Freckles.... White Favourite freckles.

Less breathing more sighing.

I drank my tea alone.

Naaz?

A small beautiful word Naaz.
Naaz.... Pride! Such a sullen feeling to have.

The morning rose fresh and hydrant.
Love the smell of mornings, the replenished fragrant morns. The very evidence of gloom extinguished.

I took the tea tray and smiled.
The living are empty?