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‘Majella!’

Her name doesn’t lift him up anymore. Each letters used to have colors. An innate undeniable force on him time rubs off. Holding on to the cold rusty door, he calls her name again.

‘Majella?’

‘Yes sugar’

Her voice echoes around. Sweet and soft but also bland. He breathes, as if he held this ounce of breath for a short eternity.

‘You won’t believe the day I had today’

He walks slowly to the kitchen, taking off his knitted and creased coat and throws it over the sofa. The black dotted white cat sleeping on the sofa soundly jumps unalarmed.

‘What happened?’

She lifts her head from the oven she was wiping. Her forehead a gloomy skimmed window on a rainy day. He takes a chair and rests on it, takes his collars off, and bend his neck back and sideways.

‘My boss called me a nigger!’

‘A full on nigger?’

‘Yes honey! A nigger!’

He taps the white round table.

‘What did you do then?’

‘I quit!’

‘Huh?’

‘I quitted baby, I quit!’

She unbends from the oven and slowly leans over the counter, unfocuses her eyes from his, shrugs her lower lip and clenches her jaws.

‘Don’t worry baby’

He rises from his chair and towers over her, takes her face on to his rough hands. She can feel every crease and fold of his fingers on her fine sweaty face.

‘Majella, look at me honey, it is alright, my friend Freddie, he was talking about starting a fish business last weekend at the bar, and we were…’

‘I broke the oven sugar’

He stands still and looks at her. She avoids his eyes, his firm grip and slides sideways.

‘When?’

‘This afternoon’

It’s all swift and quick, when his touch transforms to a flaming slap and she stands there holding on to her face as if it was about to peel off. A tear forms and verges to an escape. He refuses to look at her and his unrelenting hand that switched from a touch of love to cruelty in fractions of seconds. The duality of touch, submission, dim line between the edges and love blinds the cruel flaws.

‘Dad’

His tiny self, stands at the kitchen’s gate, hugging a notebook half his size.

‘Look at what I drew dad’

He walks past him. He walks past his own house. He walks past his fence. He walks past his town and neighbors. He walks past his city and its lake. He walks past himself and he walks in to a river.




‘But it’s wrong!’

‘Yes honey, of course it is wrong but we’re talking about human beings here’
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አንድ ሃሙስ በብዙ መንገድ መሞት እንደምችል ገባኝ:: ደስ የሚል ስሜት ነበረው::

የእግር መንገድ ላይ እንደ ኤማሁስ መንገደኞች እየጠወለኩ ስራመድ ሚገናኘኝ ተስፋ አልነበረም::

ፀሀይ እና ደመና እኔ ልቅድም እኔ ትግላቸው በጥላዬ ይጫወታል::

ድንገት ሸንኮራ ናፈቀኝ:: ሊሾው እንደ በረሃ አፈር ሚለባለብበት የከተማ እምብርት ላይ ቆሜ በአይኖቼ አገዳ በኩሊያቸው የተሸከሙ ሰዎችን መፈለግ ጀመርኩኝ::

አገጬን እና ፂሜን እያጠመቀ ሚወርደውን ጣፋጭ ወለላ ስመጥ የአግዳሚ ግልምጫ ጥላዬ ነበር:: የሰፈርኩበት ድንጋይ ሚዛን ሲስት ታፋዬ ላይ ያስቀመጥኩት የአገዳው አንድ አራተኛ ክፍል ተንሸራቶ አፈር ላሰ:: አንስቼ ልበላው ዳድቼ ጥቂት ጥርጣሬ ገደበኝ::

የአገዳው ያልተጠበቀ ጣፋጭነት ስለወደቀው ቅንጣት እንድተክዝ ገፋፋኝ:: ለትንሽ አገዳ ብዙ ብዙ ተከዝኩኝ::

ራሴን ስለማጥፋት ሳስብ ዝንብ እየሳበ የነበረውን ጣፋጭ አገጬን እየታጠብኩ ነበር::

ራስን ማጥፋት እንደ ተራ ሃሳብ ሆነብኝ:: ሞት እንደ ፊትን መታጠብ የሚፈፀም የየእለት ተግባር የሆነ ያክል::

የሞት ቅለት ጉልበቱን ነጠቀብኝ:: ነገ ሌላ አገዳ ቢወድቅ ክፍሌ ጥግ ምታፈጥብኝን ሰማያዊ ገመድ እጨብጣለው:: ለዛሬ ግን ኑሮን መርጭያለው:: የበላሁት ሶስት አራተኛ አገዳ ይጣፍጣል:: ታክሲ ጋቢና ሳይያዝ ተሳፍሬያለው::

ነገን እንጃ... ህይወት ምርጫ መሆን እስክታቆም ድረስ እሷን እየመረጥኩ ቀጥላለው::
2👏1👌1
All this time I knew
That average was something to fall back on after genius ends
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9 years
Do you know how they say ‘without’ in France?

Sans’
Smoked a cigarette with an Egyptian. A camel head extends on the pack.

‘My whole life… I am always running.’

And you’ve only heard fewer true words.

When the warm lips press to an icy Negroni, and a bold droplet disperse a sand, you will find us. His eyelashes trim yellow gaze on his flattened irises.

You search for a response situated as an unqualified medic, treating a slumber undiagnosed patient, whom you just met departing a train, seeking a lighter to your virgin cigarette, surfing on to brown leather bar-seats, smoking an Egyptian pack, burning your lungs through the way in and out.

Maybe change is a good thing. You think, and the glasses hanging above the bartender’s head meddle the red lights.

‘I used to see spirits’

You look in to his eyes as if they were dirt you wanted to bury the dead into.

‘Spirits flying around my room in complete abyss, dancing around the corners, in pure utter silence’

The ice crumble to his nose when he drains the last drops from the gloomy glass.

‘I shouted, I cried and asked them to leave. They widen their desperate stretching smile and continued climbing my walls up and down, swaying above my head. I run out of my room to my mother’s. She wrapped me deep in her covers and started hushing my dismay to silence. The spirits didn’t follow me to her arms and walls. She told me it was a nightmare and I believed her.’

He licks around his burnt lips, clink the ices in the empty glass like rocks clashing amidst a hurricane.

‘After few nights they came back. They came back in numbers and more hectic. I ran to my mother’s every night. She would tell me it would pass but it didn’t. Months flew agonizing and my mother’s words betrayed me every night.’

The pack empties and the fag ends stare at us, lying like wounded soldiers bent and burned.

‘One night, backed in to her hands, my head wrapped and my ears lullabied by her soothing voice she called my name. I tracked her face by my eyes, waiting for a response.


Do you know? Your mind, it’s so beautiful in here.

She slowly pointed her fingers to my head partially under hair strands.

It’s so beautiful in here, which is why the ghosts never leave”

She continued her singing and I slipped in to a dream realm’

I finish the drink facing me, my palms around its body much like a long awaited lover. Searching for situating words between the floating mandarin slices, between the layers of rum and juices. When I turn and glance, all I encountered was a floating empty space he once occupied. It’s late in to the night where the ghosts love to wake at. My nerve tips senseless, my body betraying my conscious and I slightly doubt my fragile
presence.
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ዛሬ ማታ::
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አበባ እና ጠይም ገላዋ


“አበባ ትወድጂያለሽ?”
“ኦፍኮርስ”
—————

ከንፈሯ ወፍራም ነው። ጳጉሜ ደግሞ ከንፈር ቢኖረው ማንጎ ማንጎ ይላል። ማንጎ እንደምትወድ ነገረችኝ። ቀጥላ— እንደራባት። ጽልመት ዥርግግ ጺሙን እያከከ ያንኮራፋል። ጸሀይ ከተራሮች ጀርባ አኮብኩባለች። እድል ያልቀናው ጅብ ከርከሮ ያሳዳል። ልንገናኝ ተቀጣጠርን። ቢጫው የሜክሲኮ ካፌ ግድግዳን ተደግፌ ልጠብቃት ተስማማን።

ሲርባት እና ስታኮርፍ ጭንቅላቷ ወደ ምስራቅ በጥቂቱ ያዘምማል። ጸጉሯ እና ትከሻዋ ይተዋወቃሉ። ጥቁር ሹራብ በታይት ታጥቃለች። አጠገቧ ሳልደረስ በማርፈድ ትከሰኛለች። እንዳትፈርድ ፍቅር ፍትሃዊ ዳኛ አያደርጋትም። ፍቅር ምህረትን ብቻ ያቃል— ናና ናና ትሸታለች።

በህይወት ጥሩ ነገሮች ጥቂት ናቸው— እንደ ጳጉሜ።

“አያቴ ድሮ— ስማኛ— አያቴ ድሮ ጳጉሜ ሲደርስ ሁላችንንም ሰብስባን የአመቱን ኦዲት ታሰራን ነበር”
“እንደ አያትሽ ነው እንዴ ምታዪኝ?”

ያማረ ትናንት ለሌው ሰው ትዝታ ምንድር ነው?

እትብታችንን ደብቀን ከቀበርንበት ሃገር ስንሰደድ የጥቅምት ብርድ ያደነደነው ጨካኝ እረኛ ለጋ ጠቦቱን አርዶ አጥንቷን አልመጠመጠም። ህዳርም አልታጠነም። መስቀልን የዘለቁ አደዮች አልተዘረጉም። ወፎች አላዜሙም። ተራሮችም አልዘለሉም። ጅረቶች አልተዋወቁም። አለም ዙሪት ዘልቃ አብቅታ ልትደግም ስትንጠራራ— ሸክፈን ወጣን— ለየግላችን— መተዋወቃችን የነገ ታሪክ ነበር።

መጀመሪያ የተገናኘንው ሜክሲኮ ካፌ ነበር።

“ፍ… ርቦኛል”

እርጥብ እግሬ በዓድ ሃገር የተዋወቀ ለሊት የሚቆጣ ረሃብ ሞላኝ። ሁሉም ቦታዎች ተዘግተዋል። በእንቅልፍ ራሴን ላክም ተከናንቤ ተኛው። ማለዳ በመስኮቶች ሲያጮልቅ ነቃሁ። የተነጫጨ ግራጫ ጃኬት ደርቤ ስወጣ የበሩን ቁልፍ ሚታገል የኬክ ቤት ባለቤት ነበር።

“የሆነ ማቀው ቤት አለ”

እርምጃችን ከህንጻ ግድግዶች ጋር ይጋጫል። እየተላተመ ያስተጋባል። ህያዋን ያሉም— የተደመሰሱም ይመስላል። አለም በእንዶድ ታጥባ እኔ እና እሷ ቅሪቶች ብንሆን አንከፋፋም። የወይን ቅንጣቶችን እየለቀመች ስታጎርሰኝ ቀይ ዳማ ቁርጭምትሚቶቿን አሽላታለው።

ስትጎርስ አይኖቿ ሊፈነዱ እንዳሉ ፊኛዎች ይወጠራሉ። ዛፎችን እንደ ካባ ከተከናነበ አግዳሚ ወንበር ላይ እንቀመጣለን። ውቅያኖስ ገላ ላይ ድርቆሽ ደመናዎች ተበትነዋል። ፈዛዛ ጨረቃ የተቆጣች የኮረዳ ቅንድብ ትመስላለች። ጉንጯ ላይ ከጉርሻዋ የተረፈ ቅርፊት ይንከረፈፋል። ሰማዩ እንደ ልጃ ገረድ ጉንጭ ይቀላል። ጊዜ ሰንሰለቱን ይዘረጋል። አመት ሊደገም ያልቃል። በጋ የነጠቀውን ክረምት ይመልሳል። ከትዝታ የተረፈኝ ህመም ይቀጥላል። ስለ ቁስሌ ስነግራት ማእበል በባህር ውስጥ ይሟሟል። ስለጠባሳዋ ስትተርክ የፀሀይ ገላ መሬት ይስማል። መሽቶ መንጋቱ ትከሻን ያሰፋል። መሪር ሃቁ ቢዛባም ተስፋን ስንሰንቅ ዘብ ነገን አዲስ ብለን እንጠራለን።

“ስታፈቅር የመጀመሪያህ ነው?”
“ሳጣም የመጀመሪያዬ አይደለም”

መተዋወቅን ወደ ግራ ሲያነቡት መለያየት ነው።

አመታችንን ያለ አቦል እና በረካ ማማት እንቀጥላለን። መጀመሪያ የተገናኘንው ሜክሲኮ ካፌ ነበር። ቃላቶቻችን እንደ ላባ ሰከኑ። አይኖቻችን አለም የጠበበቻቸው ይመስል ተገጣጠሙ። ሀገራችንን እና ስማችንን አጥተናል። ልባችን ቀይ ባህርን እየዘፈቀ ይዋልላል። ሰፊ ውቅያኖስ ላይ ጠፍቶ ሌላ መሳይ ፍጡር እንዳየ ሆንን። እርስ በእርሳችን ውስጥ መንገድን ፈለግን።

“መለያየትን ትፈራለህ?”
“መለያየትን የፈራ መተዋወቅን አይሸሽም?”

ከንፈር ላይ ተኝቶ ጥርስ መሃል መንቃት።

——————

ጸደይ ስሟ ነው— አበቦች እና ማር አነፍናፊ ንቦች ይወዷታል። ተዋውቀን ወቅት ሲለወጥ፣ መሃሪ ሰማይ ከቁጣው ሲያርፍ፣ የተቀጠቀጡ ቁጥቋጦች ሲያቆጠቁጡ፣ ወፎች ህመማቸውን ሲቀጽሉ፣ የተዘጉ መስኮቶች ለጸሎት ሲከፈቱ፣ ካህናት አኮቴት ሲያቀርቡ፣ መስጂዶች አዛንን ሲያሰሙ ቀለማም ቀናችንን ጀመርን። ጥቂት እርምጃዎችን እንደሄድን የጸጉሯ ክፋይ አጠገብ ባለጌ ንፋስ ያረገፋት አበባ በጎኗ ተኝታለች። አስቁሜ በጣቶቼ አስተካክዬ ሰካኋት።

“ምንድነው? ... ምንድነው?”
“አበባ ትወጂያለሽ?”
“ኦፍኮርስ”



*አበባን ስትወድ ከነሚሞቱ ጠይም ገላዎቿ ፤ ተፈጥሮ ምርጫን አታውቅም።

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2025/10/19 17:27:09
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