Munir asked Khaled while trying hard to keep the bite of bread soaked in “Bisar” dish between his jaws.
The voice of the waiter interrupted their conversation as he was passing by them and shouting the orders of the customers. Some black clouds were looming far in the sky foretelling a rainy weather.
Kasabarta market was a busy market that abounds with life. The restaurant was completely full with merchants of the market and workers who came from the farthest areas of the city to enjoy the breakfast of the popular Bisar dish and minted tea. It was for Khaled the atmosphere he felt comfortable in.
Khaled adored simplicity to the core.
Simple people, regardless of their flaws, are honest and act upon their natural instinct.
With Huda, it was a different story; he could not invite her to a popular restaurant or café. The customers’ eyes would have devoured her before they finished their rendezvous. He might also be interrogated being the ‘last person who saw the late, devoured woman’.
His budget was shrinking gradually; however, he had to invite her to private places so that she would be his sole interest, and he would not be distracted following curious gazes.
Munir’s words awoke Khaled. He realized that his friend was still talking. Khaled replied,
Khaled and Munir left the restaurant. Munir was passing his hand on his stomach and still tasting the remaining food in his mouth. He drove Khaled to his house.
Khaled entered the building. The old woman, Rahma, was still persistently taking care of the building. He kissed her hand respectfully and enquired about her news. She replied that she was alright.
When was her response anything excepts for ‘Thanks God’? He couldn’t remember such an instance.
He turned his apartment upside down trying to find all required documents for the visa application. It was a long battle accompanied with panting, sweating, dust, and exhaustion. It lasted for almost an hour before he finally could win it.
Finally, he got hold of all of papers he needed to submit his application. He was actually exaggerating when he talked about queues with Munir. The process witnessed significant development, and it was carried out only excepts for a stage or two.
Huda told him that the head of Writer from All Around the World society was her friend, and that she asked Huda to invite him because he translated the novel Le Horla by Guy de Maupassant into Arabic as the forum would be discussing de Maupassant’s works.
There remained three things; a phone call with the Belgium Consulate to arrange an appointment as he was bound to the date of the forum, a bank statement, and the invitation that Huda would send.
He felt really excited despite his initial hesitation. Deep within he was aware that Munir had said was true. All he gained from writing were some financial rewards and some journeys. There should be a forum or a conference somewhere that would invite him every now and then because the organizers believed he was a competent person to invite. He was invited to Cairo, Alexandria, Hama, and now to Antwerp with Huda unless the Belgium Consulate had a different view.