Читать книгу Sinbad: Rogue of Mars - John Garavaglia - Страница 55

CHAPTER FIVE

HOW TIGHT CAN LIFE BE

WITHOUT THE SPACE OF HOPE

Sinbad awoke hours later in his dark and damp cell, praying to Almighty Allah it was all a nightmare. But to his dismay it wasn’t. He squinted his eyes to adjust to the darkness and used the faint moonbeams to look at the other side of the cell. He could see only the trace of small drops of Azrak’s blood on his cot and on the floor. Sinbad was guilt ridden and he felt truly alone.

Time weighed heavily upon him. Plans were in motion, but there was little for him to do at the present. A long, lonely evening awaited him. He took this opportunity to pray.

“How many an unfortunate, who has no rest,

Comes later to enjoy the pleasant shade.

But as for me, my drudgery grows worse,

And so, remarkably, my burdens now increase.

They live in comfort all their days,

With ease and honor, food and drink.

I’m like the next man and he is like me,

But oh how different are lives we lead!

How different is wine from vinegar.

I do not say this as a calumny;

Allah is All-Wise and His degrees are just.”

He had been in control of his life for as long as he could remember. He was convinced that his life was going to be ending in short order and there was nothing he could do about it.

His passing thoughts of taking revenge were replaced by finding a way to escape the prison. Then they had given way to self-pity and a bleak conviction that even mattered.

“It was my responsibility,” he said out loud. “I should have sided with Akhdar.”

JOHN GARAVAGLIA

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