#ShortStory: Oasis Always and Never
The excessive heat of the rising morning air killed all hope for a productive day. As the men finished their breakfast they left to attend each to his responsibility. The sun was rising in the horizon yet beating down on their heads. Some had wrapped their shirts round their heads while others wore sweat soaked caps against the domination of the merciless desert sun.
The oil tower was almost finished. The fumes dizzy and nauseate the burnt skinned men, but there’s no time to waste. The site should be cleared and handed by the end of this week.
In the city, the restoration of the government building was underway. New trees were already planted. Streets were already rebuild but the houses and buildings had minor changes to show. The city is being restored but the signs of mass destruction are visible like scars.
Under the July sun, hundreds of merchants and buyers gather in the street. Over the burning tar lay boxes of food. By sunset, the atmosphere will change dramatically. By then, the chaos of the noise will seize to whispers. The streets deserted with heat that burns under the skin. Stray dogs and cats whose owners died or fled roam the streets at night, along the hyenas and rats.
Under a metal roof covering the night sky, Faima touches her pregnant belly and moans. She puts the oil and thyme powder on a tray with some bread. She walks into the the only other room and serves her family of seven dinner. Ali grabs a loaf but puts it back slowly. He watches his sex children empty the tray off food and smiles bitterly.
He jumps up seeing his wife’s face. “Is it time? is it time? Oh God… Alright. You just, erm.. Come with me… No! Wait. Oh God! Su’ad!Su’ad!! Where the hell is she!? Fatima is having the baby! Su’ad! Where the hell is that damn woman!”
Su’ad is nowhere to be seen. What is left of the hospital stand 10km away. The broken down pickup truck has no gasoline. Most of the neighbors are gone, but a few old people or too poor to start over elsewhere.
“Oh Ali! Help! Help me. You’ll have to do it yourself. Ali!!:
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“Sir, the army is demanding their request. What is your order?”
General President Shrub stands at his window. Rain hailing with fury. It is dark outside. Clouds hanging low on them like an omen.
“Send them whatever they need. It was worth it, after all. Send the drugs and don’t bother me with such details, Colonel Hound!”
By next morning, in the land of the desert, a soldier overdoses on heroin. On the other side of the mountain, seven people huddled around the mattress, enjoying the newborn’s cry piercing their ears.
Baby Mujahed, the fighter. First and only boy in the family.
“Congratulations, Abu Mujahed!”
Oasis is a vast country of endless deserts. The riches of the Earth seemed to cluster under its particular sands. It could have been a powerful country and a proud nation with history and culture to guide them on. Its inhabitants were hardworking and determined. Ambitious.
Since the war found refuge in Oasis, the potential for greatness was silenced. They float in desperation and no tomorrows.
Yesterday, war was declared over. Tomorrow a new tide of massacred dive blades into the exhausted people. They did have a moment to finally look up at the sun. But it was dead hot.
