|
|||||||
|
|||||||
|
|||||||
The little boy, who loved to collects empty bullet shells, followed his friend, the young fighter, everywhere. The little boy brought the young fighter coffee, cigarettes and sometimes helped him wash the car.
The young fighter walked with a gun on his waist, and many bullets in his pocket. The little boy loved to collect empty bullet shells. The little boy puts it all in a big glass jar. The little boy hid the big glass jar under his bed so his mother does not see it. The little boy loved to clean the empty bullets, he counted it every day, and played with it. When young fighters’ died, little boy went the funeral and crouch under the other fighters’ feet. When other fighters lift their big guns in the air and shoot at the sky, the little boy crawls under their big black boots to pick up all the empty shells that falls from their guns. The shells are bouncy and warm, at funerals all the women cry like babies, said the little boy. On time, on a sunny summer day, when all was quiet and the birds sang, and the cats went stretched, and the dog barked, the young fighter called on the little boy and said to him, Let’s go for a car trip little boy. The young fighter laughed, and drove fast to the war zone. When the little boy and his friend the young fighter arrived at the war zone, the young fighter stopped the car, pulled a beautiful new gun with a silver colour and holds it in his hand. It is a shinny gun and can make many empty shell the little boy shouts with joy and smiles to himself. The young fighter cranked the silver gun, it made a shlack shlack sound. The young fighter aims at the enemy’s side and fires his new gun and the sound of the gun makes Bang Bang. After the young fighter fires his silver gun, the two friends hear another Bang Bang sound coming from another gun, which is sure not as beautiful as the young fighter’s gun. The young fighter falls on the floor and blood comes out of his heart. The little boy runs and takes the young fighter’s gun with his two little hands, points it at the sky and fires it many times. When the silver gun stopped the little boy threw it on the ground, picked up the empty bullets and ran home and looked for his big glass jar. |
|||||||
![]() |
Rawi Hage |
||||||
©////o/ |