The Curse
By Nabiha Mahdur
Translated by Hatem Al-Shamea
She retreated to a secluded spot, concealing the turmoil that churned within her. With each kick, regret slapped her like a stinging blow. Her forehead beaded with sweat, shards of pain tearing through her being. She cursed herself a thousand times, cursing the day she surrendered her heart, the day he painted flowers of hope, built castles of illusion, and wove dreams from spider’s silk, ensnaring her in his flimsy ropes, captivating her with his false desires.
Now, she bore the sole burden of their transgression, a consequence of a moment of weakness, exploited by her inner demon. He abandoned her, a victorious smirk etched on his face, his parting words echoing, “I disown you.”
She fell to her knees, kissing his feet, pleading, imploring, asking him by God’s name to fulfill his promises. With a contemptuous kick, he thrust her away, discarding her like the seed he had sown within her without a shred of remorse.
Her agony intensified, and her suffering amplified. She stifled her cries, realizing there was no refuge from her torment. After an excruciating ordeal, a life emerged from her womb, screaming, cursing her with each wail.
Gathering her strength, she gazed at her newborn, listening to his cries reverberating through the mountains. With trembling hands, she cradled him, tears streaming down her cheeks, tears of regret and sorrow. With withered eyes, she surveyed the desolate landscape, a reflection of her own barren soul.
She sought a crow, a creature of darkness, to conceal her shame, to teach her how to hide her transgression. With faltering steps, she trudged under the scorching midday sun, the weight of her impending fate pressing heavily upon her.
A tumultuous battle raged within her: fear, grief, and pain. Her mind was a whirlwind of uncertainty, paralyzed by indecision. Her guiding crow offered a solution, a desperate act: she cast her newborn into a roadside waste bin.
With eyes squeezed shut, she tried to block out his cries, her heart shattered by grief. She continued her journey towards the unknown, cursing herself a thousand times.
The Quarantine Philosopher – Wajdi Al-Ahdal – trans. Hatem Al-Shamea
