Why Are You Here ?


{ Denise gracefully hosts Six Sentence Stories, where writers unleash their magic under one simple rule: in no more or no less than 6 sentences.
A second offering for this week. The prompt word is : COFFEE }


“I know you’re tired but come, this is the way.
Close your eyes, fall in love, stay there.”
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī

Why Are You Here?

Contrary to what you may think, I am not covered in sweat as I walk barefoot in the world’s hottest desert; at +50˚C / 122˚F with zero humidity any water from my body manages to escape the eccrine sweat glands, evaporates instantly leaving me with a deadly I-got-this fatuity.

Optical illusions begin to make their appearance from the periphery of my eyesight, the expected puddles of water due to light refracting when it passes through two layers of air with different temperatures; this one though, is no mirage I have heard of, as a figure covered in loose black garments from head to toe, stands still on top of the sand dune I am climbing.

Figment she is not, her words, As-Salaam u Alaikum reach my ears and her astounding eyes render me equally bewildered, barely managing to murmur Wa-Alaikum-Salaam; for seconds or hours these eyes bare my soul…
لماذا أنت هنا {why are you here?} her utterance as she beckons to me.

(photo by Sidhra Ibrahim on Unsplash)

From faraway I come to marvel at the wonders of your land…my reply comes in a reflex manner, a concealer of my effort to create favorable circumstances on my behalf, even though I have absolutely no idea what those wonders might be, if any…my expectations shuttered, as she echoes herself…لماذا أنت هنا

Exhausted, not as much from the scorching desert but from her uncanny power to see right through to my predatory nature that has served me well in the civilized world, I consign to oblivion…why am I hereto collect trophies I will demonstrate on my apathetic wall, to create opportunities for them (for me) to prosper (to become filthy rich) and share the accomplishments of modern technology (by depleting every ounce of their natural resources)…she looks at me once again…no more lies لماذا أنت هنا   …   I am here to find out why I am here.

Enwombed by time held in suspension, I pause…her garments dance freely with the desert wind and I am lost in the darkness of a moonless night…close your eyes, idle your mindthe path you seek cannot be seen by trying harder to unearth itparticipate instead of pretending, engage instead of denying, embrace instead of poisoning …
the way ahead is now mine (should I choose) to claim, as simply & as clear as the path emerging in a moonless night after you close your eyes for a while.



About Spira

A Renaissance human. Part healer, part B/W photographer, part artist, part sigh of a writer, part explorer of guitar & piano landscapes, always in love with music..."Music is the fabric that clothes our lives" as Denise Farley once wrote. All done with the dedication, intensity & passion of an imperfect speck of cosmic debris.

20 responses »

  1. Very true words, Nick.
    Just being rather than pretending to be someone else makes things a lot easier.
    Loved this story, and the setting… with the heat here today, I could actually be there!
    Here’s for seeing through to the truth! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • Now…what am I supposed to reply to your words? Stardust you sprinkled all over my humble place!!
      Thank YOU for participating, engaging and being in your unique , beautiful way.

      PS: psst, some behind the scenes of this story…don’t tell anyone, will ya?
      I did have a conversation in the middle of the Sahara desert with an elder woman, as astounding and enchanting as the one in the photo.
      I have not taken a photograph with her afterwards, even though she offered.
      The smile she returned to me upon my negative answer is something beyond description…

      Liked by 1 person

  2. “close your eyes, idle your mind…the path you seek cannot be seen by trying harder to unearth it…participate instead of pretending, engage instead of denying, embrace instead of poisoning ”
    Wow… just wow.

    Liked by 1 person

    • 🙏🏼 🐉

      (had to fish your comment out from the spam file…good thing it has become a habit to check that…WP seems to have an issue there, minor nevertheless since the amount of spam blocked by Akismet…now, that’s astounding!)


      • Luckily I don’t get much spam. I’m still small potatoes (and I like it that way because spam is annoying).

        How easily you shift your weight so the compliment flies by. Quite impressive. A philosopher and a ninja – impressive résumé!

        Liked by 2 people

    • Yes we are. And what we make with these whispers.
      Second person to use hypnotic as a reaction…I will respectfully assign that at the chest of this story as a medal.
      Thank you Liz.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. (pasting discussion with Marla here, due to comment nesting making hard to read them)

    continuing…Spira: Trust me Dragon…I mean what I say….I am way past compliments time😎
    Marlapaige: I don’t doubt you mean what you say. Otherwise, why say it? It was just the mental image of Jackie Chan standing, shifting his weight slightly, and a compliment (oddly shaped like a baseball) just whizzing by his head without so much as a blink from him. Total ninja lol
    Spira:You just complimented my moment…big time!!!
    And you have foretold something in the works …Dragon!!🐉
    Mp: I’m happy that you are not too far past compliments that one can land now and then. It’s good to be able to take a compliment (or so I’ve been told my entire life as I stink at it)
    I certainly did not expect to become a fortune teller today! Hmm…. I wonder what it could be? Perhaps a 99 word story about A ninja baseball player who looks a little like Jackie Chan? No… I’ve gone through your blog – it’s not the message you put through in your works. You’d probably be more toward the idea that compliments are like baseballs. I had a friend a while back that had similar messaging in her blog to yours I don’t think she blogs anymore though. She would have taken the compliments/baseball thing and found a message that when too many are thrown at you and you let them land, it’s much like letting a pitcher hit you just so you can walk – after a while, it starts to really hurt you in the long run, and although you might get back to home, you’re gonna be limping when you do. That was just her way. Although she probably wouldn’t have used baseball (she’s not American), she would have compared it to cricket or maybe rounders (I think that’s what it’s called -I’m not much for sports). Hmmm….now I’m wondering why she doesn’t post anymore. Happily I reached out earlier today, and I’m hoping she gets it.
    Spira:In all honesty…I am not able to reply as I should at your comment…reason being: 3 cigars, 5 Margaritas, hell of a music playing and, most of all, a dear friend, despite her circumstances had a smile on her face after our exchange….so, you understand.
    Mp: I hope you are having a lot of fun! And I’m so glad your friend still has the ability to smile, despite the circumstances that should have removed it.
    As for the rest of that comment, I was not expecting a response – I was merely thinking out loud for a moment.
    Word of warning from one who knows: slow down on the margaritas – have another cigar instead. Tomorrow, your head won’t be pounding as much lol
    Spira: I am at home (no driving)…all good and safe!
    Thanks for looking out!!Appreciated 🐉
    Mp: 🙏💜


If writing is the painting of a voice, pick up your brush and paint a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.