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tahar ben jalloun
well but death never once
occurred to me. My worries
come from elsewhere, maybe
even from childhood. I was
always worried; it was in my
genes. It passed from father
to son.
One sleepless night, I see
ever y thing in black. In
the evening, I spoke with
Professor J.F. We had spoken
for a long time, but now, I
review all the women that
I loved, all those I kind of
loved, those I only had sex
with, and those I fell crazily
in love with. Those aren’t
that many. Catherine comes
to mind. I see all of them in
erotic positions. I recall our
evening of pleasure. I started
counting and giving them
names… Gazelle, Caramel,
Cinnamon, Source, Spiritual,
Famished, Brown Riddle,
Russian Riddle, Embellished,
Cat on a Hot Tin roof,
Captive, Elegant, Screw,
Tireless, Insatiable, Petite,
Round, Large, Winter Sun…
I give up when I feel signs of
tiredness that often precede
sleep. I’ve conquered my
insomnia. While I am drifting
off, the last visit I made to
my uncle in his hospital
bed came to my mind.
He had trouble speaking;
amyotrophic lateral sclerosis
(Charcot or Lou Gehrig’s
Disease) attacked, among
other things, his vocal cords.
I leaned in towards him to
understand what he wanted
to say: “I’m leaving this world
without regrets because I
drank a lot and I fucked my
fair share…” I thought he was
going to tell me his last will
and testament or give me
some advice to follow. But,
on his last breath, he was
still thinking about his track
record. I loved him a lot. I