CHAPTER 4 (Modern Love)


I peeked through the peephole of my front door.  There were three stern-looking men on my front stoop.  Their beards were appropriately long and shaggy.  They dressed as I dressed; yet, I did not recognize any of them.

I called out through the intercom, “What is your business here, brothers?”

“Salaam,” said the one who was closest to the door.  “Let us come in, so that we may talk.”

My scanner showed that they all had knives under their robes.

My Security Laser cut them down and they lay panting and dying in my happy sight.

Over my shoulder, I called to Mohamed, “Call the Brotherhood.  There is another pickup for them.”

I kept watching until the last one stopped moving.

Mohamed said to me, “Why do you live in this neighborhood?  The Shiites have you surrounded.”

“I am too old to move,” I said.  “I have lived here for thirty years.  I lived here when I was the collector of jizyah from the dimmis.  It allowed me to live in splendor.  Surely, you recall.”

“Yes, of course,” he said.  “But things have changed.  Ever since Sheikh Obama was captured and decapitated by the Caliph of France, this neighborhood has become Jahannam.  I was stopped at two checkpoints on my way here.  If I was not a master of al-Taqqiya, I would be in prison, or worse, now.”

We sat across from each other again, drawing heavy clouds of cannabis resin smoke into our lungs.  My friend’s worries dissipated.

We laughed aloud as we heard the bodies dragged away from the front door.

With a conspiratorial whisper, I leaned to the side of my pillow and said, “You know.  The Caliph of Mecca has just declared that Angela Merkel and Sheikh Obama are now saints.  And he is sending an army to kill the Caliph of France.”

Mohamed Hashim Laith-Osman’s mouth hung open in disbelief.

“There are no saints in Islam,” he said.

“I’m just messing with you,” I said.  “The fact is,” and I nearly fell off my pillow then, “there is just one reason I stay here.”

“What can it be?” asked my friend.

“Fill up the bowl and I’ll tell you.”

Five minutes later (or was it an hour), he asked me again.

“Why do I live here, among the Shiites?  I just love killing them.”

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About rosewater12

I am in hiding.
This entry was posted in fantasy, Fiction, prophesy. Bookmark the permalink.

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