The Sudden Appearance of Hope

Chapter 17

Some few years later, I sat by a pool of shallow running water in the shade of the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, my head covered, my feet bare, and thought of nothing much, and everything in particular. Even in the shade, the stones were still hot from the midday sun, but the burning was good against my skin.

Sun goddesses:

I felt no need to pray, and wondered if any goddess of the sun would watch out for me regardless.

I thought about Byron14, and mugurski71.

I thought about the Chrysalis diamonds, hidden back in my hotel room. Why had I stolen them? At first it had been part of a plan, a challenge, a thing to do. But Reina had died and I had been prepared to walk away until someone had said…

Perfection.

And Princess Shamma bint Bandar had been perfect, and so had Leena, and Reina had not been and she had died and perhaps…

… with the wisdom of hindsight…

… I had let a little bit of spite infect my professionalism.

Spite: malicious ill will. The urge to hurt or humiliate.

Byron14 had an agenda. That didn’t necessarily make Byron14 wrong.

I sat in thought for an hour and a half, until the motion of the sun pushed the shade away from my face and my skin began to burn. Then I went into a hall of white stone and crystal chandeliers, and wondered if this simple opulence, this elegant extravagance was what the Prophet had really had in mind when he preached, and listened to a lecture in English on the interpretation of the Hadith, and closed my eyes as the mullah talked, and thought some more.