AN ANGRY MAN

A weird silence now prevailed. It was only broken when one of the men yelled out: “You hate us, don’t you!”

General pandemonium now ensued, punctuated by a series of random comments:

“We don’t want to die.” “We’re not going to die like dogs.”

“Life’s better than the grave.” “So why don’t you die all on your own?”

“Living as a coward’s better than dying a hero!”

“But I love you all!” the angry man pleaded with them. “I love everyone. And it’s precisely because I love you that I want you to face the enemy and die.”

“Okay, then! If you’re not afraid of death, go ahead and die.”

Front cover of Damascus Fire

The angry man put his hand in his pocket and brought out a dark black revolver. The men withdrew in panic.

“Don’t be frightened!” the angry man shouted. “I’m not going to hurt you. In any case you’re all going to be killed in your own bedrooms.”

Raising the revolver, he aimed it at his own head. “It’s just as I told you,” he went on with a smile. “Death’s actually quite insignificant.” With that he squeezed the trigger, and a shot rang out. The angry man fell to the ground, blood streaming from his head. Meanwhile, the explosions kept getting closer and closer, their sound ominous and pervasive.

TRANSLATED BY ROGER ALLEN

from the collection Dimashq al-Harai’q (Damascus Fire), 1973

BANIPAL 53 – SUMMER 2015 149