(no subject)
Sarin stared out from her window at the array of skyscrapers across the distance. A few seconds later, the sun peeked out from the far building and almost instantly, the windows tinted out the searing rays. And so began her day.
She picked up a copy of the Beirut Daily News and scanned through the sections. The opera received rave reviews for their premiere production of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the Hezbollah retaking of the senate in the recent elections continued to be in the headlines, and of course, on page A32, taking up a quarter of a page, the new initiatives taken to help stabilize the Idaho farmlands from the American insurgents. She always found it funny that so many people believed the war over when every day more dead were being shipped home. But no one really hears that anymore.
Quickly finishing her coffee, she stepped out and headed off to work.
As traffic slowed to crawl, she looked out upon the thousands of billboards flying by. One showed a voluptuous man advertising for a brand of coffee. She always wondered what men thought of the millions of ads which placed such unattainable goals for weight given the food shortages. Butter stocks had never been higher; what an investment that would have been. And were they as aroused by the images as she was? There seems to be so little media that can be seen from their point of view.
She turned on the radio and out blared Tchaikovsky. A few years ago, the underground classical movement attracted some of the shadiest of Lebanonese society. Now, it’s the latest rage among the teenagers. Capitalism wins again. She turned the corner and arrived outside of her building.
She headed straight for the office and there, sitting on her desk, was the new e-novel.
She had browsed through the sample and was quite excited for the rest. The premise lay in how Mohammed had secretly had children and wished Islam to be directed by his son, a secret which the church had kept secret. His descendents carried on, and the secret is slowly unravelled by a treasure hunter and the last of Mohammed’s lineage. The treasure hunter leads them out of many peril and in the end, wins the heart of her companion. The descendent, Syed, is intelligent enough to solve a few puzzles, but doesn’t do much else beyond that and allows the relationship between the two to develop. The writing was simple, and the men will simply love it.
…
The air was crisp despite the pollution, and so Sarin decided to walk home. As she passed a group of kids, she couldn’t help but notice the crosses they wore around their necks, another crazy new fad brought on by some movie. She wondered how many of them knew what it actually meant, and the wars that had been fought for such symbols. So much culture and now nothing more than a fashion statement, it was almost sad.
She turned on the TV as she entered her home and there was a show documenting the turn of the 20th century. It was hard to imagine that the United States used to be a superpower, and that wars were fought for as insignificant a resource as oil in the Middle East. Strangely, she couldn’t help feeling that history had an odd way of repeating itself.