Tweet On a cool summer morning in the western suburb of the Twin Cities. Taking my dog for our daily walk; the air was fresh and clean; the birds were chirping; the houses are enveloping by massive green trees. The neighborhood was quiet before trash trucks roared in, the lawnmowers had not launched their assault on our hearing, and True Green service had not waged its chemical warfare on the green! The dog was full of energy and joy, looking forward to a new sniffing experience on each corner. On the narrow street, the dog suddenly stopped and seemed confused, looking at a black blanket of berries covering the street…
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Dogs don’t chase Village Fools …!!
Tweet My Old House in the village as stands NOW In our village, dogs chased kids and kids chased Rafut: The village fool , as he was known to everyone, a middle age well built man, a stranger, and outsider, he wasn’t one of the locals, no family, no address and no last name. You never seen him in the fields or at the barber shop, Only showed up in weddings and funerals, for free handout of food, in the street, kids paraded him with insults…
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“Boushra”…
Tweet Everyone called them .”el Nahseen” pots &pans family, our neighbor,… they weren’t typical farmers, they had a different lifestyle, they were not one of the locals…, they were the strangers a.. outsiders…, their house was always a mystery to me, dark and smoky, I was fascinated by a windless room where they had cleaned and shined villagers pots and pans. inside the the room was something I never seen anywhere or in other villagers houses…, a coal oven, that used for work on the pots and pans… , it was always on fire… , where an air-pump ignited the fire to a deep red embers…, the father was fun…
