The Dreams

Dream 38

I was sitting in my room, listening to a song on the phonograph, when a ravishing, elegant, and exciting woman of about twenty walked through the open door. Swept away by surprise and desire, I stood up and walked toward her until I stood in front of her.

Calmly she put out her hand, which held a letter. I took it and looked at it, then replied that I could not read it due to the weakness of my eyes, and asked her to read it for me. But she apologized that she did not know how to read or write, saying that her father had composed it for the prince whose name was found on the envelope. Before he died, her father had advised her to bring the missive to me so that I might deliver it to the prince for her. My astonishment mounting, I told her that I didn’t know the prince in question — or any other prince, for that matter. I grew suspicious of her, and tried to change the subject, but then she left.

As I crossed the Qasr al-Nil bridge on my way to work, she appeared before me at the other end. I ignored her, but she followed me for not a short distance.

Coming back to my home, I discovered her quite settled in there. I warned her not to return to the subject of the letter. A long while passed, but still I wasn’t free from evil forebodings — nor, clearly, was she. Definitely, we both had to flee by one route or another.