The Deserted Island

An oasis is like a dream on the deserted island. A dream is something you live somewhere far from your real self. It is always confusing. More confusing as that of the innocent face of Sabina, a whore who was so confused that sometimes she forgot to take the reward. She was not at all an exemplary whore. She was not to blame. Because whores eat up all your resources and but look at me. I own unstinted wealth. Either I must blame the diabolical act of ghosts who lived on the oldest banyan tree who consumed my childhood dream of fairies in a white skirt. I was more eaten up by my 180-degree self.

The commanded destiny again played a whimsical game. She was programmed to deceive and this time again I was left alone in the deserted island. When I left the western hemisphere, Cairo promised me a magical reward. “Some other day” was going to become this day. But destiny was no less than a whore. I won’t say it a bitch. Because bitches have an excuse and whores have a reason. I do believe that it was destined and that too without a formal reason.

And so I completely left “some other day” to the ultimate orgasm of destiny.

At 10 PM eastern time, I found her virtually here when she was about to take leave. I was in complete ignorance about her leave and so was ecstatic for being together somewhere in the eastern hemisphere. After a ceremonial conversation, our plan was formalized. My wings were flying in delight and in no time I was just a minute away from my fortune.