told him that! Get him down man. This geezers worrying me. I cuda found somone myself... How longs he need? Dats bollocks! Im takin it easy! I got peple lined up this end, Im takin it eazy. Tell him he aint getting nu’in til I see it upfront... He knos we need it upfront. Whatdaaa...
Dat slave cusses and kicks da wall. Wile his uncle jams his hype. Yea, wile his uncle has his back.
—Iss bollocks... Im calm tho, innit. Yeeah, pashiens. Dumbshit. Listen, you keep on him, Chacha. Salaam. All rite. Laters.
This grateful lump of love.
Da Protectors wrap thir Powers around.
He saw two spots of color in her cheek he knew wud be ther for days. He needs to find another hiding place.
And she spoke about thir finances. He sez hes wiped out after Pakistan.
Say, she wanna smack his head up tchaa, leve scratches on his neck, teeth in his cheek. But she need to take care, she need ta breathe. (He doznt know she need to take care, she need ta breathe. An his sins are not multiplied)
—You remember th woman at Citizens Advice? She sed you have to rite to th banks.
Becoz you told th dole we were shacked up, he thot, and dey closed all my claims; and taxing me six months. A Pataan, wiv da blood of mountain clans, reared to raid da lowlands, jack the women, fight da kuffar, begging th Housing Benefit.
—Im waitin to hear back, he sez.
Yor creture sees da razor blade in da kichen.
He wants to sleep but needed her to go to bed. To go and get his bag o dreams from her car and find another hiding place.
Say, she cud smell it off him. And she was gon to bed.
Yor creetur plugged in Doom 3. And qwikly desends to th dead.
And Hamza sez: Noble Alif, we’s gonna be mongin out tonite.
And da Followers wandering corridors of the damned with vacant bludlust.
Ech time Yor creature makes a gesture his road forks off; we follow passages branching infinitly, and we will never find our way back.
(Qiyam: 0045 GMT)
At som point Yr creture realized she is standing in the doorway.
Dat servant waits for him to die.
And her Followers fan balm in her face.
He wanted to looze himself in da sepulkers of his game. But shes standing ther.
—I hope theyre helping you to find somthing. I know what its like to be skint... And yu can stay away from... the others yu were... coz I cant afford to have it in the flat.
Her eyes water; thow his hackles ar up he is disarmed.
—We cant looz this flat, Nassa... you kno that.
—Safe.
Hav you seen a woman with mercy? Her tears coming and her voyse wobble? Her Folowers, they blow into her face.
—It makes me get crazy wen were like this. I just dont know wat yore doing. You dont tell me, Nassa. You can help me by telling me. If yore not motivated or... it must be hard to start all over and not find... I do appreshiate... Id rather you took a paper round than went bak to all that... I dont mind being the bredwinner.
Tho his hackles are up he is cawt.
—Im sorry I get crazy somtimes. I just dont want to get to th point its just wharever. I dont want us to pretend. You can tell me, Nassa.
Truly, thez cretures hear the Angels listening.
And he flinchd.
—Som day we mite have a kid. It wud be nice for... an make a home. If yuve thot of... We just need to communicate. You can tell me.
—Safe.
—Id like you to tell me. Wat yu want to say. If yu want to think about it. You can tell me wen you want to say... Did you want to say anything?
Alhamdulillah.
And he is full of wonder. Why did she do that just now? Who was she?
Yor servant stays up wondering how he got here. Today he saw a frog cringing under somwuns wall.
And he cant find wich Naseeb to remember. A yearning spot dat wants to dash th Plan. To sacrifice da Game and go strait to th sunny garden of cripples n pleazantries and fruits of doing Good.
(An he became a saint, sez my Noble Scribe.)
He needed her to sleep. To get da green baby bag from da bedroom n go to her car.
Da creature crept into da room. Wid da Protectors becalming her sleep. But da bag it hisst between da wardrobe and da wall ware he stashed it. And her voyce come slow:
—And remember she sed you can rite to th credit cards.
—I alredy did.
—Do you need th car tomorrow? I need it later.
—Yeah, he sez.
Say, he cant remember why he hadnt written da letters to th banks an cards. But dere was so much to do, so many things. Who cud do it all? Dey want him to swet all dis pointless stuff. Dey have no idea. He has to do wat his destiny sed. His vizion becom known, his risktaking vindicated. And peple retributed.
And da slave wanted to loze himself in da sepulkers of th game.
He didn know when he slept.
The soul dreamed of taking fifteen hundred arms and legs to Afghanistan.
He was in a factory plant with prosthetic shells sprayed by robots.
Down featureless corridors of a storage centre, the rows of corrugate metal rooms under striplights swaying on wire, where a sad orphan that never found its stump was caged.
The din of metal beaters and furnace, and the corrugate walls and chickenwire ceilings open onto a workshop garage in India. Children in vests and halfshirts gawk at a young man getting his foot keel fitted. And the khaki’d police lounge at the shutters.
And then they play football in the street, the amputee in three-quarter combats bounding along, another small boy with Himalayan eyes galloping on titanium pylon and wooden feet, the children surging fish shoal...
When Yor servant wakes it takes a bit before he realized it waznt real and hes got nothing heroik to tell.
And he rolls out of da sofa to his fones flashing in da unlit living room wiv missed calls from unnown numbers.
And drawn to da spare room, to stand in front of da winda and look at Leeshas car and sense da goods still there, a ghost cum back to unfinished matter. He cud tuch it—da future like a garden o grassy eaze an largess, and companionable hooris with sweet drinks—so hard not to hold it!
And
