Chapter Ten
There were two hours between four in the afternoon and the moment Ama al-Rahman knocked on my door, dear Reaper. I always took a short nap (while my internal clock fluttered), and then observed a special ritual. I recall the particulars often, oddly enough.
(If the Breaker of Delights and Ender of Desires eagerly joins the conversation and insists I tell the story – because, like me, he can’t resist the details – I’ll tell him the following.)
At that time of day I was always to be found standing at my little window, looking out through the grillwork at the street and passing cars. I was waiting for Ama al-Rahman to step off the bus, dissolve into the tumult of the street, and confidently head towards the building complex. She wore a loose veil these days. (It enveloped the t
