63: Parting the Red Sea
‘I am a brat. I know. But I know too, I need courage when its time to leave everything I love, only in the pursuit of movement. Only in the pursuit of you.’
‘Don’t bring me into this. I’m nowhere in this world close to you. I am a spirit floating. I dance on cliffs that would cost you a pretty penny just to let your eyes graze over, only a second, then it’s all gone. Poof! It’s like magic. I will be missed. But never will I be left behind. Isn’t it magical!’
Nuweibaa at dawn is magic, my dear. All else pales in comparison to your foolish childlike gaze, and yet still I move on. Isn’t it a precious life we’re given? We should move on. Always. We should move.
‘What’s the P stand for?’ Asks the mum to be, leaning over the wet railing, staring into the pier.
‘Passing over P.’
‘No. Really?’
‘Parting the red sea.’
‘Stop fucking with me.’
‘I wish cutie pants, what do you want from me?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Its settled than, I’ve set you free.’
‘Haven’t you seen pony boy? Nothing is free. You will always belong to me.’
‘Yours and yours to hold snug against your skin and soul, I know.