Contents.

 

1 Yasmin Page 4

2 The Drink Cart Girl Page 25

3 He Said, She Said. Page 30

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yasmin

By Matthew de Laclos

 

 

 

Chapter 1 Fully Equipped

.

 

Midlife crisis struck at age 50, when I found myself newly single, after my spouse left for greener, or perhaps only different, pastures. With a $50,000 advance payment from my publisher on my first full length novel I was ready for something new. Not enough to quit my day job; after all $50K was less than half what I made, but I wanted and needed a break. Through my publisher and my agent I found a realtor in Agadir who located a small home, fully equipped, that I leased for three months. To my surprise, the publisher picked up the tab; he thought that I might get a head start on my next novel while I was there. My employer reluctantly agreed to a three month leave of absence and I was on my way.

After an interminable trip that took me from the center of the country to New York, from there to Paris, and then to Casablanca, I finally landed in Fez, exhausted, my clothes wrinkled, and jet lagged beyond description. I still do not know what I wrote in the immigration forms, or why the customs agent burst out laughing when I mumbled an answer to whatever it was he asked me.

My realtor, Ahmed, received me at the airport and took me and my luggage to the place that was to be my home for the next three months. It was a small townhouse, in the walled, old town of Fes el Balui. By the time the car parked at the entrance, the setting sun bathed the sandstone building in orange and ochre tones; the air was redolent with the smell of cardamom and exotic spices coming out of innumerable open windows where women, now as always, prepared the family dinner.

He rang the bell and a young woman opened the door. We entered the house which, despite the lack of air conditioning, was quite cool. Ahmed left my bags inside what appeared to be a sitting room.

"You speak French well, don't you?" he asked me.

"Oui, je parle Français."

"Good. Yasmin will show you around," he said in French, and left.

"Bonjour Monsieur," Yasmin said.

In a daze, I followed her around the house while she showed me the different rooms. I was so befuddled by fatigue, lack of sleep, and the time change that I understood little and remembered less. I only noticed in the kitchen, that the refrigerator had been stocked with several bottles of mineral water. I opened and drained one; took a second one, wished Yasmin good night assuming she worked for the realtor, and headed for my room.

I dove into bed head first and was asleep before hitting the pillow.

I woke up, sometime during the night, I had no idea what time it was. The open window let in the cool night air and the light of a full moon bathed the room in bright blue light. I smelled the scent of the jasmine flowers that grew around the house. The sound of crickets filled the room. Beside me, lying partially covered by a sheet was the nude body of a woman. I recognized Yasmin's long curly hair. I sat up in bed, startled.

She lay face down on the bed. A swath of white sheet covered her waist leaving her back, and her very firm buttocks, shining in the moonlight. She turned her head to face me. Her eyes were closed, and her deep breathing showed her to be deeply asleep.

I got up, drained the bottle of water I had on my night table and went to the kitchen to get another one. As I returned, barefoot, I wondered if there were scorpions here.

What was Yasmin doing, naked, in my bed?