By Mohammed Mrabet

“Ah,” acknowledged Hassan, “I don’t think on the earth. There’s one other global the place existence is different."

These are tales of that global. The be aware m’hashish (equivalent in Moghrebi of “behashished” or “full of hashish”) is used simply in a literal experience, but in addition figuratively, to explain anyone whose habit turns out irrational or unforeseen. The stories right here care for the various attainable effects, fascinating and questionable, of being in that state.

Mohammed Mrabet was once born in Tangier in 1936. considering the fact that assembly within the early 1960's, Paul Bowles has taped and translated a number of unusual legends and vigorous tales stated through Mrabet: Love with a couple of Hairs (novel), The Lemon (novel), The Boy Who Set Fire (stories), Harmless Poisons, innocent Sins (stories), The seashore Café & glance & stream On (autobiography), and The monstrous Mirror (novella). After relocating again to Tangier after residing in long island for 4 years, Mrabet resumed his function as a fisherman and commenced portray. He maintains to color whereas dwelling within the Souani sector of Tangier.

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I sat there for two hours and a half. Then they came and got me and took me back to the Frenchman. I felt sorry for you, he told me. So you can go. Do me a favor, I said. What's that? Keep the kif and tobacco. Just give me the board and the knife. Certainly not! What an idea! But the man who gave them to me is dead. I think more of that board and that knife than I do of anything. He was frowning at me. And in front of the Moslems standing there he said: That's enough. That's enough. Take everything.

Abdeslam did not move. He got the trousers off, and then he pulled off Abdeslam's shorts as well. Still he did not move. Hamed pushed him and rolled him over onto his belly. He knelt above him and spat between his buttocks. Then he made him pay for the insults, as the woman under the datura trees had told him to do. When he had finished he went into his room and slept. In the morning he arose and made his breakfast. Soon Mustafa awoke, 30 and got up off the floor where he had been all night. Then he saw Abdeslam lying there, just as Hamed had left him the night before, with his buttocks still uncovered.

I was going to put it away later. Pretty soon a man walked into the café. A man with a turban and djellaba, and yellow slippers on his feet and a cane in his hand, like a Djibli. We looked at him and he sat down and ordered a Coca Cola, and paid the qahouaji, and we went on playing. And then he reached out and picked up my leaf of tobacco and looked at it, and said: Whose is this? I told him it was mine, and he said he wanted to talk with me outside. Where? Outside. All right. I got up and went out with him.

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