- 1 Post By Anglika
Aisha and Murad- part three, Short story
Please, would you proofread this part of my short story.
Murad arrived with a big buquet of flowers that soon filled up the whole room with their scents. From the stereo in the sitting room a powerful voice of Khaled proclaimed the wish of a emancipated woman Aicha who was telling his lover she wanted the same right as he had. "Je veux les meme droits que toi et du respect pour chaque jour..."
Murad kissed her under her ear and that gave her goose pimples sending pleasant tremors down her body. There was a faint smell of sweat around him mixed with the shower gel. That was one of the things she liked by him: he never used any perfumes. She could not stand the man who walked around smelling like a perfumery shop.
If she could looked herself in the mirror she would have noticed the twinkles in her eyes. She was under a spell of the most powerful magician called love. Murad liked her food, he praised her baklava telling her it was one of the best he had ever tasted. Only his own mother could have done better.
Aisha was blushing and turning into a rose which started blooming after years of drought.
Living in Sweden, she could not avoid of being influenced albeit, in a small quantity by the belligerent Swedish feminists who considered all male animals who should be kept away from females and picked up only to satisfy a woman's sexual desire! So after Murad had helped her to wash the dishes according to the Swedish unwritten law of equality, she was eager to discover the animal inside him and feel his "paws" pressing her body.
He was a wild animal, but she knew how to tame him and he obeyed her all commands, drowning her mind and body into the sea of pleasure.
After two weeks of their friendship she proposed to him to move into her flat. He had been living with his mother for some years in a tree room flat outside the town. His father had already died, and his two other brothers still lived in Turkey. He and his mother had developed a strong bond which was difficult to break without pain. They two were like two shipwrecked sailors struggling in this grey sea of loneliness called Sweden. At least until now she was the only person who understood him fully and consoled him in the moments of distress. Some of his friend laughed and mocked him telling him that although he was thirty three years old, instead of cigarettes and alcohol he should have spent his money on nappies! But he answered them that a mother is only one and irreplaceable.
To be continued....
Re: Aisha and Murad- part three, Short story
Originally Posted by Bassim
By Bassim in forum Editing & Writing Topics
Last Post: 22-Apr-2008, 07:11
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