Sheik Arruffat El Hachbedel had two daughters: the oldest was called Msida, and the other Gzira.
When he was visiting them, he couldn’t avoid going back to the time when they were living together.
On the contrary, the two women could barely wait for the moment he would leave. Not for lack of affection, as they loved him, but for fear that something could go awry, that he may get angry, a quarrel start abruptly and they may not see each other once again.
Indeed, the good sheik had a fierce temper, and was incapable of mending relationships; he was as a tree plenty of broken branches.
Whilst he was there, a strained atmosphere pervaded the house, made of few words, restrained gestures and some faint smiles.
One day, one of Gzira’s girls wanted to bring her grandpa a cup of coffee and, bumping into his kaftan, spilled the boiling beverage over his legs.
The Sheik’s yell led to a flood of shouting and fighting throughout the house in which everyone released their pent up feelings. Every lack of attention was reproached, every suspect, every concealed regret.
They almost came to blows; then, out of the silence, they waited for Arruffat’s reaction.
He came back to the room, in his underpants, and was received by a sweet, boisterous laughter, wafting through the walls as a salty wave.
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Sheik Arruffat El Hachbedel had two daughters: the first one was called Msida, and the other Gzira.
When he was visiting them, he couldn?t prevent his thoughts going back at times when they were staying together.
The two girls, instead, during his visits, could barely wait for the moment he would leave. Not for lack of affection, as they loved him, but for fear that something could go awry, he may get angry, a quarrel start abruptly and they may not see each other once again.
Actually, the good sheik was subject to sudden blaze of anger, and was incapable of mending a relationship; his trunk was plenty of broken arms.
When he was there, a vague atmosphere pervaded the house, made of few words, restrained gestures and some faint smiles.
But once, one of Gzira?s girls wanted to bring her grandpa a cup of coffee and, bumping into his kaftan, spilled over his legs the boiling beverage.
The Sheik?s yell opened the floodgates to everything had remained compressed until then. There were shouts and fights all over the place. Every lack of attention was reproached every suspect, every concealed regret.
They almost came to blows; then, out of the silence, they waited for Arruffat?s reaction.
He came back to the room, in underpants, and was received by a sweet, boisterous laughter, that went through the walls and vanished as a salty wave.
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