Post by MUKHTAR KEL GRES on Jul 29, 2021 1:12:07 GMT -5
I DREAM OF GARDENS IN THE DESERT SAND
( I dream of love as time runs through my hand )
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While never a big fan of the outdoors especially in the winter, Mukhtar did have to go to the post office now that he could go to the village. The poor nomad was wearing his robes, two sweaters, a heavy coat, gloves, two scarves (one red and one brown), and probably two hats under there as well exposing only his eyes for view. It wasn't too cold today thankfully, but his desert-adapted body did not deal well with the Scottish winters and he longed to be back in the common room with hot chocolate in front of the fire. Or maybe in the fire, one of the two. Stepping inside, he missed the looks people gave him as he went down the street because of his oddly layered clothing.
Waiting for a clerk in line, Muk felt the inside temperature with relief, undoing the two scarves after a minute to hang on either side of his coat as the line grew shorter. When he reached the counter the people behind him were surprised he was recognized under all the layers! "Ah! Mukhtar, I was just telling Ennis it was nearly time to see you again! Why don't you sit over there on the stool and we'll get Fez out for you in a minute?" He nodded "Thank you, sir, I will." And went over to sit on a stool and wait, trying to pull his gloves off and onto the counter so he could reach inside his coat to get out the mail. It wasn't that he was a special customer or paid highly so much as his was unusual and monthly.
After all, few of the owls here had to make thousand mile journeys and to non-fixed addresses.
Finally freeing the thick envelope from his pocket, he laid it on the counter. The address read "Aafiya son of Nasmah, Trader's caravan, Possibly near Timbbuktu, Mali" and the envelope itself was thick with sheets, possibly as many as twenty. Beside that he laid a second set of notes and pulled out a cord. The post office didn't charge him for a second letter, but sent things by weight which made it important he put these two together even though they went to the same place. With deft fingers, the heavily layered young man attached first to the flap button on one the cord and ten began a complex set of strapping lines to fasten the two securely, the address free and easy to see. It took a minute and the clerk had helped two others before he finished and then cut the cord, putting the rest away after he made a complicated knot on the back. He tested them for security and nodded with satisfaction.
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Words:445
Lyrics: Desert Rose by Sting
Credit: Shava