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I ran up the fifth floor again, breathing heavili. I was glad the coordinator forgot the keys in my car. It’s a wonder I didn’t wake up the next door neighbour when I kept ringing the bell.  I had never seen that old ladi aniway. I wiggled the key in the lock and opened the door to the Meem house.  It was 1 am on Sunday night. My router had crashed and Bekhsoos had to be uploaded.

“Where the hell did everibodi disappear to aniway?”

I went in and set my stuff up in the lounge. Someone had left the light on… typical. I turned on my laptop and proceeded to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The food cabinets were empti except for a pack of noodles. I hung on my tiptoes to grab it when suddenli I heard a thud. I went back to the lounge but there was silence.  Had the neighbour next door dropped dead? Hmm.

I finalli settled into a chair sipping my tea and nibbling on raw noodles to ease my stress. I began working on Bekhsoos when a tapping sound started creeping in on me: “يا ليلة مش حا تعدّي”

I sat perplexed. I am not a wimp but the awkwardness called for some sense of discomfort. The tapping was coming from the clutter closet, periodicalli.

“It can’t be a rat… or a cat… please God let it be a rat and not a cockroach.”

I opened the closet door quickli and stood back: nothing but clutter, and a spider web. The sound kept coming from the same spot.

“Had all the grass I’ve puffed in my life just gone to my head?”

I put my ear against the back of the closet and it was clear to me, the noise was coming from behind the closet. The top corner of the back was out of place and I saw a dim light behind it. Something was veri odd. I removed the packed christmas tree and couple of dusti trash bags. I climbed in and pushed the back of the closet door to open it. Something was blocking it so I pushed harder and when it did open, it revealed a long dimli lit corridor. Behind the mysteri door, was the wooden chair that was blocking it. The tapping sound was now louder. I walked though it quietli before I reached the door to the room on the left. It was a vast multi-levelled room, with black wooden floors and burgundi velvet walls interrupted by portraits of headless naked bodies. I have seen that birthmark somewhere before …

To the left, there was some sort of ring. I get closer and I hear squishing sounds. A muddi hand grabs on the rope:

– “I’ve got you right where I want you this time!”

There they are. I see Emcee, on top of Salma, pinning her down in a puddle of mud, both dressed in Gladiator costumes. A foot kicks Emcee around the stomach and pushes her back in the mud next to Salma with her face up. Rouba steps on both of the women’s stomachs:

“That move was not allowed! Start over again!”

Across from the room Shant was dressed as Frank from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” wearing a black wig along with a Victorian corset, leather undies and fingerless gloves, all in black. Her face was covered in white make up with red pouti lips and beads around her neck. Next to her is Suqun el Leil in a maid’s dress with big red curli hair waiting to receive the order from the mad scientist.

I am bedazzled. Is this like, a dream? A nightmare?

I pass by unnoticed and walk up a flight of stairs, I finalli see the source of the tapping. Oh wow… Ladi Gya was dressed to the nines. A leather catsuit with her buttocks pushed up, thanks to her high heeled boots, and exposed for everione to see. In her hand, held tightli was the handle of a large braided whip, and its tip lay stings on the naked back of Lynn, who hung by a piece of cloth around her wrists attached to a chain from the high ceiling; with her mouth gagged and the tip of her toes bareli touching the floor. She turned as she was swinging above the ground and our eyes locked. Hers widened as she was taking in the surprise. Lynn mumbled as loud as she could which greatli dissatisfied Ladi Gya:

“Silence!” She shouted as she cracked her whip once again. I lost track of time as I observed the lashing which played like music to my ears.

“Why was I not included in this merri gathering? Did somebodi forget to add me to the mailing list?”

“Please.. no! Stoooop!”

My show was interrupted by the begging which preceded a series of giggles. I turn towards the source and I see two happi feet wiggling to the effect of a tickling feather. Ishtar was lying down on a wooden table with plastic wires holding her down her while Nadz was in charge of torturing her. I guess that settles the battles among the Arabic and English editors.

I see one more level on top. I go up. I hear moaning. I see Ghoulama, Athena,  Mir, Crimson and Abdo Al RaQisa all entangled on a bed. Loud moans and sweati bodies embracing each other. I couldn’t tell whose boob was in whose mouth. They were slithering on top of each other. Abdo had her face buried between someone’s legs, performing her favorite oriental dance, with her tongue.  One moan became distinct among the others. It kept  getting higher and higher. A bodi started shuddering among the pile. It started rising above the others; further up with each moan. I couldn’t take my eyes off. The shudders came more rapidli, the moans loader, until she finalli sat up screaming her orgasm! To my astonishment, there she was… Joelle was facing me. She opened her eyes surprised and said: ““Phoenix???”

Phoenix is a self-centered and sarcastic soul incarnated, perhaps by accident, in the bodi of a woman. As a writer with a temper, she replaces her "y's with an annoying “i” for aesthetical purposes and lives to crack a joke, at the expense of others. Her paranoid nature makes her sensitive to plants, animals and people. Ironicalli, after making fun of the Meem lesbians for years, she found a warm home there and is now renowned as its veri own emotional pest. She enjoys reading the paper with a hot cup of black tea while nude, more often than not.

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