Excerpt from short story. ‘Call To Prayer’. As yet unpublished.
“The mosque remained inert, in all its shades of blue, and was immaculate as its interior glowed with the light of a thousand bulbs. A quiet delicate sequence began inside. Kneeling, rising, men laid prostrate, hands clasped, eyes closed, murmurs, whispers. The women came too. The hems of black sweeping across the marble outside like moth wings. Shoes lined up at the entrance. The security guard strolls and paces at the front. I wait for the prayer time to end, and for the tourists to be allowed back inside. Really that’s all I am – a tourist. I have no allegiance to Allah, no faith, no sense of an almighty. I just have a…
Short story. ‘Call To Prayer’