I reacted on his rosy cheeks, now I get why, William Lee thought, a Qafr is a pervert, a shady type really, and should not be healthy. ‘my next book will be called ‘rosebush’ Lee thought, and fell asleep rather collapsing… Islam’s standard bearer came with an umbrella through the howling rainstorm to Fajr.. ‘not get wet’ the umbrella he had been given at the hotel blew half apart as he walked there, but since he had another black raincoat left that had not become landlocked in Yapan, he protected his Kånken that was a very good friend indeed in Kåken.. the whole world had become one big Asaksa Prison.. And of course, the rules applied equally.. Yesterday some qafirin had been shot in their heads as they tried to disturbe him and the princess making it out.. ‘do your work’ was the message.. You are paid to guard the prison, not disturb the love life.. If you do that, that is capital punishment.. Then the girl turned to him and said in a very sensual tone indeed ‘do your work honey’.. and so he did.. saying ‘it does not matter why you love me, just I fuck you.. the reason for why which you make up in your mind from time to time right here right now right right does not really matter honey..’ and they had a pleasant orgasm indeed spurt sperming sex in her womb, that was the only time the girls got really satisfied actually.. nothing else sufficed in the ending.. that he liked loved their love songs to him ..
If he did not, they crashed down.. but satisfied they were first when this cold fusion miracle happened.. So the half of the wet umbrella was blown off by the winter storm.. he could see a knowing eye brow raised as he arrived later at the hotel tell.. ‘the winter storm of course has to be Daito’s fault too..’ he said.. and so they were smiling..
The Qafirin was interesting in whatever upon their part for one single reason; that they could cut down the rose bush and steal the roses.. Right now it had been literature that was in the swing, actually the devil had wanted to become a concert pianist, but had ‘started too late’ and so he tried with poetry, but realized he could not become ‘one a the qabir’ ‘and it is only the qabir that is to be counted with’ he said, ‘I was once what you call ‘a minor poet’ ‘ etc etc etc. So he had become a critique instead, which by writing about dead and alive authors and handing out silly noble creep prizes was stealing the roses from the stalks and devouring them with a black worm inside..
’love you brother great prayer’ he said as he passed a brother quite in front of Agia Sophia using a beautiful dwarf mountain pine as shelter from the rain, sitting on a carpet praying, a little tilted since only the black earth was in the direction of the qible.. ‘not wet and dirty at the same time’ he thought , with a travelling suitcase in front of him like a twig in the desert stuck into the ground if someone would happen to pass in front of the believer as protection against them maybe not feeling the fragrance of janna if so they prayed forty years. A cat made a stretch in front of him drying his wet bag from the storm water with its fur wanting to cuddle with his left leg ‘and then I lost my leg and they sent me back’ as Vin Laden sang in ‘Keep moving on’ it was the leg miraculously yet unafflicted by the neurological damage control disease, al Qafirin had inflicted by torture in Absurdistan’s deepest dungeons (DD)..
’Malika yawm mid din’ he said aloud, as he entered the temple gate.. ’thank God for fajr Mosque already opened..’
’Allaho ak bahr al hamdu lillahi’ he screamed’ you go to the masjid to pray to Allah ony’ as he told the cat at the temple grounds, seeing those beautiful 4 or 5 towers all around and the beauty of Agia Sophia round straight ahead, with the well in the middle.. As he told the cat so, and also to be careful.. ‘not praying for more than 72 hours ‘ had begun abusing his cats for speaking the truth to him, he spoke with them just like Salomon Aleyhi Salam to the hoopie. And he wondered if his right leg had begun shaking slightly because of the chill of the winter storm, or/if because people had become into some kind of mass psychosis with a bulging eye literary worshipping a money heap instead of shouting ‘Allahu ak Bahr’and meaning it.. ’nothing is true everything is permitted’ he thought, and saw only one card in a vision left thrown upon the wooden dark table ‘Al Haqq ‘ it said on it.. ‘guess I have to bet on the truth’ he thought. It was a metaphore..