3 Short Stories

Originally posted on Project Pen

The Scientist

He did his calculations and then did them again. The math was meticulous. He made sure the equipment he used were carefully measured and tested the apparatus several times before the grand experiment. He dealt with them with extreme delicacy as to have no disturbance whatsoever that could tamper with the accuracy of his findings.
Then it happened. When he finished his calculations he was wrote down with all the pride in the world:
“October 7th, 1697: Today I found out the weight of the earth… But I won’t tell anyone.”

Two Skulls

They ran frantically through the woods. She clutched his hand tightly for fear he would trip and fall down and she would not be able to save him. Suddenly, they found themselves in the bottom of a deep, dark pit.
“I’m afraid, mother.” The boy told his mom. “Everything will be all right, dear” she said softly, and then she gave him a warm hug.
A while later, a 9 year-old would trip over a weird looking rock. He would take it to his father who would examine and decide that it belongs to a boy around the same age the kid who found it. They would go back and find another skull for a 33 year-old woman. Questions would rise: Who are they? What brought them there? And everyone in the world would be speaking about the two forgotten fugitives, who became a worldwide sensation, 3 thousand years later.

The Actress

Today is the day, finally we’re going to start filming. It’s not my first role but I’m particularly excited because it’s quite different this time. I’m playing the role of a struggling actress. It’s funny, no? An actress playing an actress. Too much acting. But then, I don’t think it should take too much effort, for I’ve been doing that all my life. You see, if you think of it, I’ve always been an actress. You see, when you try to live up to everyone’s expectations you might have to put on an act too. People often ask me how it feels when I pretend to act that I’m in someone else’s shoes. I often reply with a smile, because I know that to people it’s pretense, they think I become someone else. But for me it’s to break free, it’s to let someone else become me. It is indeed to be myself.

Subtitling… Again

A while ago I wrote this

Still, people’s first reaction when I tell them what I do is usually: Nice, you get to see all the new movies!

And then I have to tell them that it’s cool, it’s relatively easy but still it’s not all fun and games. That’s one reason I made this…



صراع البقاء الإلكتروني

خبراء الإعلام الاجتماعي لدينا (اللي هم مجموعة خيالات جوا راسي طبعاً) أنه من المهم  وضع قائمة إرشادية بأهم المهارات الحياتية التي يحتاج إليها المواطن الأردني الراغب في خوض غمار هذا الميدان لأنه الموضوع مش مزحة

أولاً: التسحيج: مارس الإنسان الأردني التسحيج منذ فجر التاريخ، لذلك ما في داعي نلت ونعجن ونعيد ونزيد ونشرحلكم شو يعني تسحيج. مهارة مفيدة جداً بتوصلك لفوق. من آثارها الجانبية التضارب في المبادىء والأقوال لأن ولاءك عادة ما يكون لجهة واحدة عرضة للتخبيص

 ثانياً: سواقة الشرف: فجأة بتظهر فوق راسك حلقة مضيئة وبتصير دون كيشوت زمانك وكل الناس طواحين هوا، طبعاً كون حضرة جنابك كامل الأوصاف فتني وعمرك ما عملت إشي غلط، وكونك الشخص اللي بلا خطيئة تعطي نفسك الحق برمي الحجر الأول، والتاني، والتالت، والمكتات، وكراسي البرندة…

 ثالثاً: سواقة الهبل: يعني بتكون الناس مدبحة بعض واتهامات وتخوين والوضع داحس والغبراء رسمي، وإنت بتكون بتكتب عن حبك للنوتيلا وبتحط فيديوهات بسس وكلاب جربا، كإنك عايش في عالم موازي

 رابعاً: تلطيش الحكي: من باب اللي ع راسه بطحة ولا عشرة عالشجرة، هيك بتوصل الرسالة بدون ما تحتك شخصياً بأي واحد لسانه زفر

خامساً: التهواية: بتكون متابع الحوار بحذافيره، وما إلك دخل لا من قريب ولا من بعيد، فجأة بتزت قنبلة، مثلاً بتعمل ريتويت لمسبة وبتكتب  “لول”  وبتروح… بيكوز كول غايز دونت لوك آت إكسبلوجينز

 سادساً: كبش الفداء: بتكون الحرب قامت وصارت اللي صار، فعشان إنت تهدي النفوس بتيجي بتحكي إشي زبالة وما إلو أي داعي بهدف تحويل الانتباه من الموضوع الرئيسي، وهيك الناس بتنسى خلافاتها وبتدق فيك… يا موحد القطرين

 سابعاً: إنك تطفي الكمبيوتر أو التلفون أو أي مدعوق بتستعمله وتحط راسك وتنخمد، لأنه ما فاز إلا النائم

وتصبحوا على خير


There’s a scene in Malcolm in the middle where little Dewey is talking about this imaginary monster. He goes on and on about it to his brother Reese saying:

“So then the monster started growling at me, so I threw rocks at him, and I killed him, and then he started flying around on rocket boost, and I got to ride inside his head, and now the monster’s my friend, and we went–and we went to get Slurpees.”


So, angry Reese gets fed up with Dewey and screams at him:

“Dewey, you did not, you just lied”


You know, this what happens with me sometimes, except that little Dewy is in my head. Sometimes I wish I could take my brain out, put it on a table in front of me and shout at it like Reese shouted at Dewey. “This is not real, all these are illusions, you’re imagining things”. You think it would quit but nooooo… I’ve been trying to control it for years, now I gave up, I just let it imagine things and I just sit there and enjoy it.


You know what really makes me see red? When I’m talking about how much I love chocolate and someone says: “ But you need to be careful, chocolate makes you fat.”

And you think I don’t know that, why? Or maybe you think that by loving chocolate I actually mean consuming it mindlessly like a fish consumes crumbs of whatever that is that fish eat. I do have a high tolerance for blood sugar but it doesn’t mean I don’t know the basic physiological facts about consuming and burning calories, no need to point out the obvious.


You know when you’re in a restaurant or a cafe and someone asks the waiter or the barista: “Is this good?” or “What do you think I should have?”  What makes them expect that this person they’ve never met would have the same taste as them? And seriously, having the waiter stand there just so you can decide what to have when the place is full of other people. I mean, it’s food, it’s not like you’re conducting a chemical experiment that could blow up in your face if you choose the wrong element. Just decide already, it won’t kill you to try something new.


You’re driving on a two-way street, divided by nothing more than a strip of white paint,  and then there’s that car coming at you from the other direction, that someone who for some reason gave himself the right to drive in the middle of the road in order to save time. And if it’s not bad enough that they’re going the wrong way and violating your lane, they also flash their headlights at you. Like, what do I do exactly? If I was a little bit crazier I would crash into them and then let’s see what the traffic police would say.


This has been happening more often than before: cigarette butts thrown out of car windows. Not to mention all other kinds of litter, it all reflects a grossly high sense of irresponsibility and selfishness, but cigarette butts? The other day I saw a car that had broken down and there was this big pool of fuel on the street nearbt. Now imagine if some jerk threw a cigarette butt while it was still lit there, or imagine if some car was leaking gasoline, which happened once to a car that was driving in front of me. What if some jerk decided he was done with his cigarette right there and then?

AWhy do you have to smoke while you’re driving anyway? And why on earth would someone smoke inside an elevator?