12-16-2013, 05:23 PM
Amira lay in her bed as she tried to shut out the pain form her leg. It didn't quite want to listen to her voice of reason. She could still feel the pathway the bullet had taken from upper hip to just before her knee. It felt like fire burned right through her muscle, it did.
It would get better. For Allah would reward the faithful. And she was a pure woman who walked in the righteous fear of the one true God. Even though she couldn't actually walk at the moment.
There was a knock on her door. "Come in," she let out. The door swung open to reveal Ashka, first cousin by her father's sister. A good man. He'd been one to try and protect her honor at the checkpoint stop. One could not be too careful in walking the true path in these times. With the coming of the Mahdi -- surely it was true this time -- the final days were drawing close.
No one had thought the guard had been so hot blooded and inexperienced as to pull his trigger at the wrong moment. In an eyeblink, a tiny piece of hot metal shot forth from a barrel and through the tender flesh of her thigh, crippling her. So here she lay. Untouched by a man but at the same time pierced by hot jacketed lead. How would she find a suitable husband now? She should resign herself to maidenhood now, never knowing the hot touch of a lover's carress in the loving approval of Allah's blessing.
"Ashka," she said.
"Amira," he replied. "I hope you are feeling well and I am sorry to tell you in your condition that we have a visitor. Do you feel well enough to entertain him?"
A visitor? Amira brought herself upright in the bed. It took some effort, but she managed to gain her footing. She wrapped her hijab around herself and grasped for the wooden cane near her bed. "Who seeks us at this hour?"
Ashka gave her a chagrined look. "You aren't going to believe me if I tell you."
It would get better. For Allah would reward the faithful. And she was a pure woman who walked in the righteous fear of the one true God. Even though she couldn't actually walk at the moment.
There was a knock on her door. "Come in," she let out. The door swung open to reveal Ashka, first cousin by her father's sister. A good man. He'd been one to try and protect her honor at the checkpoint stop. One could not be too careful in walking the true path in these times. With the coming of the Mahdi -- surely it was true this time -- the final days were drawing close.
No one had thought the guard had been so hot blooded and inexperienced as to pull his trigger at the wrong moment. In an eyeblink, a tiny piece of hot metal shot forth from a barrel and through the tender flesh of her thigh, crippling her. So here she lay. Untouched by a man but at the same time pierced by hot jacketed lead. How would she find a suitable husband now? She should resign herself to maidenhood now, never knowing the hot touch of a lover's carress in the loving approval of Allah's blessing.
"Ashka," she said.
"Amira," he replied. "I hope you are feeling well and I am sorry to tell you in your condition that we have a visitor. Do you feel well enough to entertain him?"
A visitor? Amira brought herself upright in the bed. It took some effort, but she managed to gain her footing. She wrapped her hijab around herself and grasped for the wooden cane near her bed. "Who seeks us at this hour?"
Ashka gave her a chagrined look. "You aren't going to believe me if I tell you."