I left imagining the delicious scandal and laughing at the woman’s daring and the man’s consternation. But they reminded me of an old friend called love. God, what a long time has passed without love! All that is left are mummified memories. How I’d like to sneak into the heart of a lover. As you know, Zeinab has been my only love; but that was more than twenty years ago, and what I remember of that affair are events and situations rather than the feelings and agitations. I remember I told you one day, “Her eyes slay me,” but you never forsook me in my insanity. However, the memory of insanity is not like insanity itself—the feverish thoughts, volcanic heart, and sleepless nights. Agony lifted me to poetic ecstasies. Tears streamed from my eyes and I approached heaven. But these are no more than mummified memories. Here I am struggling to lose weight and I see in dear Zeinab only a statue of family unity and constructive work. Honestly, I’ve lost interest in everything. Let them take the three apartment buildings and the revenues. I won’t claim that the principles which once nearly landed us in jail along with Othman make it easy to accept, for those days of strife are themselves no more than pallid memories. I don’t know what has happened to me or changed me. Rejoice, dear friend, for while I grow healthy in body, I’m approaching an exquisite madness. May you be so lucky.

—

“Don’t forget to write him about the medicine.”

“I haven’t, dear.”

How sweet you are, Buthayna. Your budding breasts are proof of the world’s good taste. Perhaps I’m an old conservative, for I’ve let your mother take over your instruction about the facts of life. It’s regrettable that you know nothing about life, that I’ve kept you enclosed like a little canary in your school bus. What lies behind your dreamy look? Despite the frankness of our talks, haven’t you withheld certain secrets from me? Are you affected by the scent of these bare bodies, by the flirtations exchanged among the waves? God, let society conform with her thoughts and deeds so that she won’t be exposed to evil. He said to her as she was sitting with her bare legs stretched under his beach chair, “We haven’t had such a good time together before.”

“It’s your fault.”

“I’ve stayed in the office all my life for your sake alone.”

She leaned back on her elbows, exposing her stomach and chest to the sun, which shone in the clear sky while one lonely white cloud floated above the curve of the bay. Her mother said without raising her head from her embroidery, “Tell him that his health is now more important than anything else.”

“More important than the building nationalizations?”

She answered defiantly, “Even than the building nationalizations.”