She rushed through the door, soot covered her body from her crown down to her feet. Hands bloodied, fingernails eroded from the coal mines. The momentum from her abrupt entrance into the log cabin threw her to the floor. Her eyes brimmed with with tears of hate and desperation. She was so broiling hot that the prespiration dripping down her face could melt dry ice.

Her husband,  a grizzly bear of a man, was sitting in his bronzed shaded chair next to a stone fire place. He could feel the fire crackle, as if it was a person emoting undeniable anticipation. The flames seemed much louder now that he saw his wife covered in soot, the same by product he became so accustomed to. He was as solid as the stone mantel he sat by. Motionless, quiet, he was a stone  and just like a stone acted with the same sentiment. In his left a he wielded a glass cup with etchings of all the animals he had dominated outside his man made log cabin. Inside this sentimental possession was  some Johnny walker, neat.  Unlike his wife this grizzly bear was clean, his clothes resembled that of a lumberjack. Plagued with emotions he longed to wash all the negativity away, but the strategy did nothing to aid his discomfort.  His garments stitched by hand, his boots appear to have just been cleaned. Underneath this calm vessels exterior, under this emotionaless shell, doubt and self pity was brewing. He was so sure of himself when he was in the act, so convinced it was the reasonable thing to do. "I love her. I have to do it. I have to set her free..." he thought hours ago while he clenched a small maroon blanket in his right palm and a pick axe in the other. He was convinced, driven by the pressure and insecurity that he couldn't provide.  He worked in the mine since blemishes started to occupy his visage. And still after so many years of hard work, found it to be an extreme complication to accommodate his family.

His wife, in a panic, got up and ran to a crib made with expert carpentry. She lunged inside and clutched Dojo. A stuffed animal that no longer had a keeper. She couldn't hear anything.  Not the fire, not the wildlife outside the wooden walls. She fell deaf. It was as if her ears perceived the aftermath of an explosion. The ringing in her ears were almost unbearable next to the crying which left her lungs to struggle like a child's respiratory system when crying for their pacifier. Like a baby suffocating under the coal that her husband worked with constantly.

"We could have found a way!" She exclaimed while her black stained hands dug into the hand made stitching of the zebra. The kind gentle hands that once nurtured a child and created things of use and delight, now basks in a haze of blood, tears and soot.

"I'm selfish, I... But I did it for... For her.." The lumberjack clothed man thought. "There ain't no way she would have been something..." he explained under his breath. The grizzly bear hurled his possession bearing his dear friend  Johnny walker into the flames. The ignition singed off some hair from his untamed beard. He then sat still. Just as still when his wife barged in.  "No way she would have lived... It was the right thing to do!... It felt right.. It felt so right for her grave to be where I practically lived for that last forty years!" Self hate and rage engulfed his soul so deeply that he acquired goose bumps.  The husband attempted to reassure himself with wrongly ambitious speech. He knew only two degrees of volume at this point. Booming language and silence.


More crying developed. The soot stained woman slid down to her knees, then slumped down in a fetal position cuddling with Dojo. A pool of tears appeared quickly around her. The radiance of hate was still spreading and building within her. Her skin acted as a proficient barrier.  Heat from her violent life force alone would have brought the puddle of sorrow surrounding her to a boil.

"****!!!!" The grizzly bear yelled while clasping his dome in between his monstrous hands, he leaned forward in his bronzed shaded chair. At this point no tears were produced by this man, only more self pity.

Either way, the keeper had no chance to live.

I won't apologize
For standing my ground
For the first time all these years
I will say I'm sorry I expected more
That I assumed you would
Actually fight for me
We were suppose to marry
And we were suppose to hold
Little spence or serenity
Suppose to argue over
Santa and the tooth fairy
Somehow we lost it all
All that's left is the duffle bag
In what was our room
In the end
I missed you
Because you had checked out
6 months prior to leaving
Slowly we died
Our dreams melted away
And I stood in the puddle of it
You stopped calling me beautiful
Started insulting the way I dressed
You stopped kissing me
And got angry when I asked
You stopped making love
And wondered why I cried
You stared at the television
As you thrusted into me
Emotionaless
Did you love me then?
Do you now?
Because even though
I hate what happened
What we became
I still remember
The day we ditched school
With no money
And explored
And I was freezing
So you offered me your leather jacket
That was always too small for me
I remember kissing in snow
Rain
And sunshine
I remember the way you wanted me
The hunger in your eyes all consuming
I remember the way
You held me
The way you laughed
And dreamed of fatherhood
I remember us in love
And I wonder
How could something
We fought so long for
Suddenly not work
How could you hold me
That night
Only to wake up
And leave me
How could you leave me
When all my life
I have asked for you to stay.

what do you see in tunisia's future? we always get asked that in a denial of our present.
i don't like that concept for me not to fill up my mind with more stressful thoughts.
is the present not satisfying enough for us to travel further to the future?
i see myself as a dancer, a guitarist, a pianist, a scenarist, a writer and an active thinking and responsible intellectual.
however these are no good concerning these unsatisfying conditions.
how do i see myself in the future? more precisely in tunisia's future.
i'm certain i'd be exactly one of those mindless spinless creatures guided by money and lust, having those peaceful moments at night when i think twice about what i used to do.
i wouldn't relate to anyone of my future enviroment and no one will look or sound the same in a denial that we are all suffering inside.
unsatisfied we lay down and believe the lies we tell ourselves.
i see those herds of zombies heading to their office, to their jobs, thinking about the tasks they were ordered to do.
creating another generation of dead walkers.
same way we were raised, we'll also raise our kids.
i see trees falling down in the future, animals being deprived of the freedom we had when we were young impeccable and cleanheaded.
with every fallen leaf, we made a decision we regret.
one more reason to grief.
the future is relative, my thoughts are negative.
in the near sorrowful future i already feel neglected, we'll all feel rejected.
from a deadly society, we're headed to a deadlier one.
to the ironic anti-social society.
in the future, inside an estuary of waste, i fix my eyesight up to the industrial foggy sky seeking a tiny glimpse of the stars, praying to escape this monstrocity.
my childish imagination creates this spaceship that lands right infront of my thoughts.
i prepare my answers knowing that these extraterrestrials are gonna quention our existence.
the image blurrs and the aliens fade away, "run" i'd say "leave, don't be a victim of this cruel globe"
i pity whoever joins us humans,
us humans, us tunisians, we'll be known by overlooking the valuable bonds.
friendship love and affection, wouldn't be holy and true anymore. would be just another ficiton written on pages, forgotten through the ages.
at a similar time, in a similar situation, hypocrisy would be contagious, trust would only be a part of our imagination,
thrown away by inhuman archers, i would rather die than to join those emotionaless marchers.
to all my future surrounders, admire, forgive, love, give, for the damaged souls.
enjoy, live, hurt, heal, close the slits cut open by the ruthless life knife, but try not to to relive.