Persian Delight: Part Three.

by | Nov 8, 2023 | Uncategorized | 1 comment

I have good news, Azizam. The scribe has been located and he is perfect. His work is of the right quality and I am sure he can make a good account of your journey so far.

Nevertheless, he is close to you; closer than you think. Your present incarnation resides in the same city. There is one other thing, Azizam. You must not arrange to meet him again. Yes, you know him. In fact, he is writing about you in the sample I read. 

If our plan is to succeed, you must heed my words, no matter how desperate your situation becomes. The world order is about to change again and you are helpless to intervene. Please show patience at this difficult time. I shall delay my departure until the position becomes clear. There are infidels everywhere, on all sides. Meanwhile, I will instigate the process and his dreams will commence soon. Take care and please consider my request.


I left the restaurant and strolled through the tiny enclave of the Middle East. Everything seemed more intense, from the colours of the goods on display to the customers clamouring to purchase them; they were louder and in my face. Whereas previously, I’d been invisible, suddenly I was wearing an ‘A’ board advertising my heritage.

However, I felt no animosity, no aggression; merely a profound curiosity directed at me. The already cluttered pavement became a moving obstacle course. Not only did I have to negotiate the multitude of boxes and cartons, but the tide of human faces added another dimension.

Presently, dizzy and sweating from my exertions, I arrived at the bus stop. I decided to shed one of my layers and store it in my bag. As I removed my coat, the solitary young woman in the shelter glared at me as if I’d rendered myself naked. She pulled the hood of her Zavetti jacket over her head and turned away from me,

This simple act angered me, as I recalled the significance of female hair in some cultures. Then, I was overcome with guilt at my apparent intolerance, stuffing the sweatshirt into my bag. The feeling that half the world was judging me in my backyard, enveloped me. I needed to get out of there.

That night, my sleep was fitful and scant. I was visited by the cast of my day, pointing and staring at me, feeling like an exhibit in a museum. I sat up abruptly and the cold air hit my wet, clammy skin. Leaping out of bed, I dashed to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I gave it a few minutes and, when the tiny room was full of steam, stepped under the piercing stream of hot water.

After ten minutes of thorough scrubbing and half a bottle of shower gel, I found myself sitting on the edge of my bed in my dressing gown. Fatigue enveloped me and I swivelled my legs onto the bed. My head sank into the previously concrete pillow and I was gone.

The resulting dream was like nothing I had experienced in sixty-five years worth of slumber. Every sense, usually muted in this world, assumed an active part in the process. I was transported to a three dimensional, five sense existence.

My eyes opened and I was lying on the bed, my dressing gown wrapped tightly around me. Unlike my previous episode, I was relaxed, comfortable and cognitive. The words of the old man came to mind, and I leaned over to check my phone. 

The screen displayed two items which shocked me. First, the time; 3:58. Then, a message from my friend, cancelling a meeting we had arranged for that day. I dealt with the second issue first, with a simple ‘OK’. Next, I turned the phone off and assembled my writing materials. I padded through to the kitchen and sat at the table we’d shared when she was here. The dream transferred from my mind to the paper.

1 Comment

  1. Kenneth Childs



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