|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Medders Thesis: pt 4 - Eye
§ Eye §
There was the sound of scraping and the door to the practice was thrown open. In staggered an old proprietor carrying a Frankish crusader across his shoulder. The Frank had one hand covering his face, the red of blood seeping through his boney fingers. Unlike others of his kind that had been brought in here, screaming over nothing but bruises as though they had their bones broken, this one was as quiet as the desert evening.
“What is happening here?” my master spoke when he came to meet them.
“This man was in a fight, he has an injury to his eye.”
“Bring him to the bed.”
The old proprietor brought the Christian to an empty cot in the corner of one of the rooms. With that my master thanked him for bringing the other Frank in and let him return to his shop.
The Frank remained stoic on the bed, his hands clenched tightly at the blankets. So tightly, that his boney knuckles were turning white.
Medders Thesis: pt 3 - The Master
§ The Master §
My master’s name was Akil ibn Ghalib al-‘Attar. He was not a very tall man, and his skin was more light coffee colored than bronze or copper. His beard of deepest black was always meticulously groomed. He always bathed. H always kept his hands clean. He was always sure to patch his clothes should a tear appear at his robes or a loose thread appeared at his head wrap. Most everything on him was meticulously taken care of. Everything he did was meticulous.
His cheeks made valleys on his face and his brown eyes were normally tired looking as the dark lines hung below them. My master always seemed tired, caught in a constant battle with sleeplessness.
My master was also a very careful man. He was careful with his patients, he was careful with his work, he was careful with wielding me in making lesions and draining sores. He was careful with the other doctors at work, sometimes he was almost too careful. Timid is what he was sometimes, sometimes
Medders Thesis: pt 2 - Akko, the City on the Plain
§ Akko, the City on the Plains §
Stranger, let me tell you of the Akko that I remember, the Akko of so many years ago that disappeared in my absence.
The city stood upon a great stretch of plains of white and yellow that rolled out in carpets from the city wall. The land I knew was fragile, yet fertile enough to dye the hills green with shrubs and trees when the seasons called for it. The rolling hills and near mountains to the east are plotted with farming lands that bring food to the city. To the west runs a great length of beach with sands of gold and deep ochre.
A great wall encompassed the city limits like a great stone sash. I pray often that if only those walls would have stayed the Franks’ advance all those years ago when they first besieged my home. I was not born when the infidels first came into this city, but I survived the battles that pushed them out and the battle that brought them back. My brother broke his back during the second siege. He broke und
Medders Thesis: pt 1 - I am the Narrator
§ I am the Narrator §
I am a scalpel, once made of iron and shiny silver now drenched in grime from being swallowed by the earth for so long. My blade has long since dulled and chipped in places. I wear a dress of green as I am finally pulled to light after sitting in that blackness with no sense of time. I am breathing air once more, liberated from the pit of suffocating darkness that had encased me. No more am I choking on dirt and mud, no more am I frozen in a coffin of dried, hard, earth around me. When the light seared my gaze, it hurt. When I was pulled up, the heat fell on me like a smothering rug. I had forgotten about it after so long. I had forgotten so much after so long.
First, there was water in the darkness; I had plunged into the hungry gullet of a well as punishment for a deed I did through no fault of my own. Then the well grew deeper and finally ran dry, the mud becoming my tomb as I lost all sense of time. When I
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More