The chatter started the following day.
“Hey, who painted the Egyptian flags on the corner? They are amazing!”
“No idea. Doesn’t it make you proud to be Egyptian, though?”
#egypt#stories#feluccaride#magickgate#mosalah#LFC#ynwa
“I have an idea,” said Ali. He whispered in Hamid's ear.
That evening they met up after supper and sneaked into Hamid’s father’s workshop.
They each got home before their families noticed.
“Cool!”
“So should we wear an Egypt football shirt?”
“I don’t know. I mean if we are not wearing one, are we still Egyptians?”
“Well, we can’t wear one when we go to school can we?”
“So what else can we do?”
“We need a flag!”
“We can’t wear that either!”
“So what do we do?”
“Do you really support Real Madrid?”
“Well, I like Liverpool better now because of Salah."
The boys looked at each other.
“What happens at the World Cup?” asked Hamid.
“Easy. We support Egypt!”
“Well, that answers it. When we are in the street, we are Egyptians!”
“Secondly, if we are all together at school, we would belong to the school!”
“Yes, that is also true.”
“But out here, who do we belong to?”
“Well, we are playing football.”
“So do we belong to Real Madrid like Bale?”
Hamid and Ali were playing in the street one day when Hamid asked a poignant question.
“Who do we belong to?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well firstly I know we belong to our families at home.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
The following night, which would be, by my reckoning, the thousand and third night, when the Sultan came to bed, he was surprised to find Scheherazade again beside him.
“Why,” declared the Sultan, “it must have been a dream. What story have you got for me tonight?”
“What you need, dear sister, is a holiday.”
“Then perhaps, dear sister, you can help me.”
Accordingly, a plan was hatched. Scheherazade’s sister spent the night, that is Poe’s thousand and second night, with the Sultan and so met her end from the bowman’s arrow.
If this was indeed how her tell-tale heart betrayed her, I can only assume that Poe neglected to mention what happened when Scheherazade met her sister earlier that evening.
Briefly, it involves Sinbad’s ship being swallowed by a whale and a God is so angry he leaves Sinbad to rot inside the whale. The tale so incensed her husband, the Sultan that he ordered his bowman to shoot her through the heart.
Poe, of course, has it that, on the night of her marriage to the Sultan, that is, on the thousand and second night, Scheherazade met her end recounting a preposterous tale regarding Sinbad.