Three Minimal Stories
By: Bijan Rahmani
translation: Kurdistan Hajbi
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Wednesday Night
On Wednesday night I go to Kafka cafeteria after my daily activity related to taxi. in weekly literacy group of there a student girl read poem who I’ve got in love with her. I who is a fifty-year-old driver, got into poems again, just because of her! Every week I invite her with a coffee and ask her to read me her new poem Amin! her name is not Amin but I do like to call her Amin. she certainly knows that I love her so she call me Uncle in a clever manner!
Amin with beautiful eyes was my love when I were in the university. She was a proud horse that I never could bridle her! I got a poet because of her love and hated poem because of her love as well and addicted with opium! I couldn’t be graduated. Amin died because she had breast cancer.
Now Amin has got alive and calls me uncle Kamal! I’m an addict taxi driver who loved Amin twice and got a poet twice!
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existentialist philosophy
shameless woman has got sheriff’s mediator! before collecting eunuch’ fuel, went to Miss Khatoon’s house and got her words for date of after night prayer.
In her bed, she was shouting for her arms pain, he went down in the hole way, intered it easily; but in coming up he freed with difficult and unfortunately forgot his beadroll on the font.
The shameless woman’s son wrote for Khatoon’s daughter:” your mom will be a new bride and escape!”
the left beadroll is the cause of me and you my love!
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baby pig
closed his eyes and puffed away a cigarette; cross legged such as apparition’s. apparitor of bakery told himself:” viva on you Michael Osmani! that is a perfect speaking! fluent Kurdish, fluent Persian, fluent Turkish!
Shirin’s dad has become responsible for changing of social flood. Repaired the alleys of prisons. arrested all those young boys who loved his daughter and retired himself. his retirement had nothing useful for him except of buying bread from Michael Osmani. Michael Osmani told:” height must not be taller than this, weight must not be heavier than this.”
56 youth sank in the flood all together. Michael Osmani baked a bread and told:” I’ll bring you budget.”
Shirin’s dad told:” yeah, yeah they will give you, sure!… they will grab it, they never give it to you.”
He opened his eyes and threw the dreg of ciggarrete into the clay oven, a dream I’ve never seen; why speaking about Michael Osmani and told:” viva on you Michael Osmani!”
