I didn’t ask the old lady about it, and she didn’t say anything. It’s why I like the Bottle more than anywhere else. I saw my photo hanging up in the restaurant when I walked in, so I knew that someone had asked the owner to put it up. Are you going to close the Bottle because of what happened tonight, Officer? I didn’t realize, Officer, that I was enabling that white night. That night Zubayr asked me to hang up a picture of Abderrazak Boukebba.Įverything was white-he said it was her favorite color-and he warned me not to spoil it with any other colors . Just imagine: I change the paintings hanging in the restaurant each day just to improve the moods of our female clients. Her favorite color, her favorite dish, the music, the perfume in the restroom, the fruits, her favorite artist .
He calls me and tells me exactly what kind of mood she’s in, so that I can ensure the service suits it perfectly. I conspire with the customer who wants to make up with his lady. It’s not their pockets that concern me it’s their hearts. Quarreling lovers are always reconciled by the time they walk out the door, their two hearts made one. My restaurant ought to be called The House of Forgiveness. A hug is halfway between a smile and a frown. Young men have smiles on their side when they’re trying to get their girls to forgive them. That’s something I’ve never gotten used to about other people. It was the first time that either of them had come to my restaurant, Officer. He closed the door.]Ī Smuggled Sheet of Paper (The Owner’s Testimony, 1) His place was beside the phone in the living room. [How long did it take him to get from the living room to the front door and then open it? It was as though the door opened itself.Īt first he didn’t believe what he saw: Sarah, flying in a wooden casket the police asking him to sign an affidavit certifying he’d received the body. I know: How about I never leave the house again, until they carry my corpse out? Or you can make me eat something that will kill me instantaneously. Like, if you win, I’ll starve myself until I die.
How dare this idiot television invade my thoughts with advertisements, trying to tempt me into buying food at a time like this? Does it think I’m in the mood to eat right now or puke even?ĭid you forget that I’m waiting for her call, Phone? She’ll call. Why don’t you remember any of that? Why can’t you muster the energy to save me with a phone call from her now? I would reach to pick up before even hearing a sound. There was already something about her that stood out, that made her ring stand out. You know that she’s the only person whose number I never had to save, the only one I didn’t have to distinguish with a special ringtone or photo. Couldn’t you see how excited I got every time her number appeared on your screen? I could never replace you you’re the one who conveys her words. Is it so, Phone? You’re the one who said it. No one else on the plane could have competed with her when it came to remaining in life’s brightness. The news report was unambiguous: everyone onboard died except for one female passenger. He wanted to hear her voice, to know she was still alive. Zubayr placed it on the table and willed it to ring.
I’ll spend the rest of my day in the word hospital now. It gave me a dirty look: Now I know why you’ve started ignoring me and spending so much time with your novel. I opened the door and found it rummaging through the trash. To listen to music that escapes from its strings To drink something and melt the sun in its ice I pretended that I needed to take a shower I ignored it even though I’d been expecting it.
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