The end

“Limpy” kept on limping in the desolate city.

During her roaming she met “Delila” waling hand in hand with “”Po”.

“Can you please tell me whats going on”?

“NO, you have to figure it out yourself”

” How about our “Hulm”?

” He, also, has to figure it out too”



The End






“Hulm” ran to his father, “Enk”: Papa, my mother”Tigris” had just returned.

“Enk” continued drawing his water elements.

“Limpy” jumped in, to the second floor of that Calamity building, and pulled “Hulm” out of his stupor.

She bit his shorts, and pulled him out.

She took him to the garden.

No one was there; not “Demoozi,” “Tigris”, “Raheema”, or “breeze”.

There was only the cats; “Nao”, and his offspring.

The only man there was the  good old “Po”

All else were gone.




It Has Not Been a Wave


A wave is never the same.

It turns from green to blue to yellow.

And then splashes and disappears.

A wave carries fish, eggs and skins of dead water creatures.

A wave keeps on polishing corals.

But a wave cannot polish a human soul.

“Tigris” came out of a wave.

She walked in, as if on water, in a black dress, with laces.

Her legs were reflecting the the moonshine.

She had her face covered in a black veil.

“Demoozi” was awaiting , all along, awaiting her.

She told him: “Son, I was not in the sea… I was in the golden wheat fields.

Grow up my son, the sun is everywhere”

She then kissed him goodbye, and went into the calamity building.

“Demoozi” stayed on his tree trunk.

There were no more butterflies.

But cockroaches and snakes.




Limpy cried out “Raheema!

Breeze is rejecting Demoozi; please help”

Raheema gathered her slate blue morning-less and went into the garden.

the breeze was adhering her dress to the her newly mast-ec-tomized chest, and in between her thighs.

but Limpy made sure she made her way to ‘Breeze”

“What is happening my dear, talk to me”

Breeze spoke;

” I feel desolate, ill-usioned, and worthless.

I do not want to be here, yet I am here.

i Love you, love Demoozi,Enk, Lim-py, Tigris, Nao, and all others.

but I do not feel I’m loved.

Po had given me a new insight, but my vision is my vision.

I am leaving Raheema. I am saddened, but I am.

Demoozi had given me some remorse which I respect, but he wouldn’t understand that Tigris is not coming back. If she would; it would not be for him.

Raheema my dear; I love you…But I have to go.

I had wanted you to help me packing, but now ,I think I do not need to pack.

I’ll just bathe and go”

“I’ll rub your back in the shower”

She did. and blessed him goodbye.

Breeze walked away, a little gesture to Demoozi who was amazed of what was happening and almost glued to the tree trunk.

Breeze walked on.

into the sea; xwhere Tigris may have walked into before.


In the Garden


Breeze had woke up, moved out of his bed and went out to the garden to get some Chamomiles to treat his ever non opening eyes; mostly the right.

On his way out he smelled an old scent.

He brushed off the smell and the idea behind it.

A furry subject started rubbing herself against his legs and then loudly announced; “Breeze: this is Demoozi... He is back’

Breeze stood still. Tried to open his eyes, but the threads of pus prevented him of doing so. He ordered Limpy to keep limping away and went for his Chamomiles.

Those Chamomiles were special in a way; he did not have to wet them or boil them, he only needed to put them on his eyes every morning, and his ophthalmia would be cured for that day.

Those Chamomiles would die by sunset, only to revive the next day.

He only had to sing for them before sunset to make sure they return the next day.

Sometimes, he felt he did not want to do it, but Limpy made sure to nag upon him to sing. She and the Chamomiles enjoy his singing.

So, off he went to cleanse his eyes.

And then he saw Demoozi.

His eyes filled up with tears, instead of pus.

Demoozi tried to touch him, his neck, his eyes.

He moved away, stepped on the Chamomiles, returned to his garden room, and locked the door.


Mother gracious

Limpy banged in into Nao’s dormitory

“Oh my my my, Demoozi had left his tree trunk, and only him knows whats going to happen….even Fourthdimention is not aware”

“Would you please close the door, the breeze is breezy”

” You are such a lazy old cat, Wake up”


“Told you… I Just love Demoozi”

“Yes, OK.” going back into his slumber.

” Where was that last piece of salmon you promised to keep for me?”


“Oh my God, you had left me only the bone leftover?! you are such a pig. No wonder I leave you here to rot. I’ll eat it anyways and go see my beloved Demoozi. Go back to your slumber. I love you anyway”

She took out the salmon remnants, and left the door open; thinking, with a half smile,  let the bastard freeze.




I am your grandma; therefore I think you had matured enough for me to talk some sense into you,

Raheema listened;

Fourthdimention did not choose me.

I did not choose this person that I live with, but she pampers my knees.

I did not choose your father, he was given to me.

Hulm did not choose his bastard father; he was obliged to have him.

You did not choose your body, but you do have It.; no choice there.

Tigris chose to escape, and, that was wise.

The desert did not choose to be brown,

The Mediterranean did not choose to be blue.

The titanic did not choose to sink,

America did not choose to be found.

Yet, we are convinced to believe that we choose,

Choose what, mother, father, life, God, brothers, sisters, what… ? It has all been dictated,

Almighty Faro did not choose to sink.

John the Baptist did not choose to be beheaded.

Neither Herod nor Salome comprehended what was happening; Heroda did, the big loving mother,

Then we are doomed because we choose.


Raheema, listen to your grandma, and don’t bother, but take care of Breeze.

It is just not worth it.

I’ll give you a kiss Raheema” choose to take it.