The 60 virgins and the dancing young boys..a reflection

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie

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"Follow the hand that points, follow the hand that points," and Ahmed had done just that. He had sneaked forward, with a body full of tension, through the crowd, and there he was at the flea market. He looked around, he had to take as many unbelievers along as possible. There were groups of people at the hamburger tent, some with a cup of coffee that was still steaming.

The young Imam with the fierce beard had said, "Don't be afraid, find as many kaffirs as possible and start your martyrdom." 'Be quick in the race for forgiveness, follow the hand that points and you will be given a garden larger than the earth. The young men competing in beauty will face you dancing, jugs with sparkling wine in their hand. "

Achmed had suffered a bad life, he had no education and had been kicked out of every school. Decayed kaffirs, with their rules and money. "That would change quickly," he grinned, thinking it was not very sacred that he entertained horny thoughts about what he would do with his reward in the afterlife.

He stopped beside the man who was chewing with his mouth half open and pulled the loop under his coat. He felt at the same time with the thunderbolt in his ears, the enormous force that blew his head away like a cork from a champagne bottle.

... far away he floated .. far away .. a gate .. a garden, a gate that slowly opened. A few humpbacks came tumbling out, they performend clumsy drunken dance steps and foolishly laughed with a jar of wine in their hand. They slowly moved in his direction.

"God bless them, they looked downright miserable," thought our brand new martyr, one of them coughed and the red wine sprayed in all directions along his white beard, another one spat on the ground firmly and then performed the macabre dance steps again .

"I will be fine," it flashed through his head, "these men look anything but competitive in beauty, but I have arrived."

 

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Then they stood next to him and they swirled around him. "I hadn't realized there were bad smells in paradise," it went through our young hero. They smelled downright nasty of stale sweat and piss. Now they were standing around him and Achmed felt cramped and trapped .. one hand once squeezed him tightly in his ass and when he wanted to turn around another hand folded around his manhood and he was led with gentle coercion.

"No," our hero roared, "stay away from me." A finger forcefully penetrated his p*phole and he screamed. He was trapped, he was led away with great humiliation. He was pulled and the pain from behind was almost unbearable. He was accompanied by cackling laughter and a gray-haired old man came forward and gave him a lick over his face and then put his tongue in his ear.

Someone was standing at the gate with a white robe on, "another fool has come," he called over his shoulder. "My 60 virgins," Achmed said.

"Get the 60-year-old virgin ready," the man in the white robes shouted, "the suck virgin."

"No!," Achmed roared when he saw the old cackling woman approach him. He awoke with a shock beside his bed. "First a glass of water," he thought, walking toward the kitchen

 

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17/09/2019 12:58

Reacties (4) 

1
17/09/2019 19:11
Guess Achmed has finished a bottle or two last night...serves him right. ;-P
1
17/09/2019 20:04
It is a shame though that he didn't trip on the way out and blew up
1
17/09/2019 23:27
Maybe he's been cured now of his heroic suicidal fantasies, having experienced what will be his reward in the afterlife...
1
18/09/2019 01:41
not much of a reward, i would imagine
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