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32 pages, ebook
First published June 1, 2017
"The Angel of Khan el-Khalili is a towering giant. Even bowed as she is, her head near brushes the ceiling. Her body is wrought of iron and brass: a living statue in the form of a lithe woman constructed of clockwork machinery that hums and moves to its own metronomic rhythm. Shimmering silver wings lay folded on her back, a bundle of metallic feathers inscribed with turquoise script that shifts and writhes before your eyes. She sits amid a bed of brocaded cushions on a mammoth moss-green divan, chin propped upon a fist in a thinker’s repose. A draping skirt of gold conceals her legs and feet, falling in cascades to flow upon the ground below. You crane your neck to gape up at her, too taken at first to speak and lost in her terrible beauty."
You mortals are such frail things. Motes floating among more worlds than you can possibly imagine. Yet your souls hold the weight of stars. If you only knew… She trails off, as if having spoken too much.An extremely well written (if a bit too short) piece in which the author wields his spectacular ability to completely transport the reader along for the ride. A good read that comes highly Recommended.
“You mortals are such frail things. Motes floating among more worlds than you can possibly imagine. Yet your souls hold the weight of stars. If you only knew…”
If you want to find the Angel of Khan el-Khalili, you have to make your way to the market at night. Not when the sun goes down, and Cairo’s masses spill out into the opening shops, where soot-smudged factory workers and well-groomed ministerial clerks mingle at open-air coffeehouses to debate local politics. Not even after the first stars have appeared and, beneath the glare of gaslight, hawkers practice their best chat-up lines to seduce idle wanderers to their stalls—where everything from counterfeit medieval antiques to driveshafts for automated wheel carriages are up for sale. No, to find the Angel of Khan el-Khalili means going to the market late at night, when most of the city have long retired to their beds, leaving the souk to the curious, the adventurous, and the desperate...
"Truth, after all, resides in the soul.”