باسمه تعالي
روزي كه زيبا نبود
1
مرد حلقه دستهايش را از دور گردن زن باز كرد و خود را كنار كشيد . زن حركتي نكرد.مرد كنارش خوابيد و چشم دوخت به سقف درست مثل زن.
مرد گفت: پاشو يه استكان چائي بده دست شوهرت.
زن چيزي نگفت و همان طور لخت و برهنه كف آشپزخانه دراز كشيده بود.
مرد: د…پاشو ديگه ، مگه با تو نيستم؟
زن خيره به سقف بود . مرد نيم خيز شد و نگاهش كرد.
مرد: مسخره بازي در نيار ، حوصله اين ناز و اداها رو ندارم.
مرد به آرامي شانه هاي زن را تكان داد.
مرد: زيبا..زيبا.. چيه؟..حرف بزن..
به تندي سرش را روي سينه زن گذاشت.
مرد :زيبا..چي شده؟ تو رو خدا حرف بزن..
زن: چيزي نيست.
مرد پرسيد: پس چرا قلبت نمي زنه؟
زن جواب داد: يادت رفته؟ خودت خفه ام كردي.
مرد آهي كشيد و گفت: به خدا نمي خواستم اينجوري بشه عزيزم. خيلي ببخشيد.
زن بي آنكه حركتي بكند و يا حتي پلك بزند گفت: چيزي نيست، نگران نباش.
2
خانه ام را مي بينيد؟ آنجاست، در انتهاي همين خيابان كه رديف درختان كاج را شكافته.يك طبقه بنظر مي رسد اما زيرزميني بزرگ دارد . من همان جا زندگي مي كنم. پشت اين خانه جاده كمربندي شهر كشيده شده و آن طرف جاده تنها چند مزرعه كوچك ديده مي شود و بياباني بنفش و كهربائي كه نا افق ادامه دارد. كاج ها را ميبينيد؟ شهردار قبلي مي خواست دور تا دور شهر را درختكاري كند . اما اين يكي ميانه اي با فضاي سبز ندارد و در عوض بيشتر اعتبارات و منابع مالي را به مجسمه سازي و گسترش خطوط اتوبوس شهري اختصاص داده. مثل همين خط 189كه آخرين ايستگاهش در چند صد متري خانه ام واقع شده..آن مرد را مي بينيد؟ من هستم. همين يكساعت پيش بود يا نيم ساعت پيش از پاراگراف اول كه به خانه مي آمدم.مرخصي گرفتم، گفتم كاري است كه بايد تا پيش از ظهر انجامش دهم.رئيس اخم كرد اما چيزي نگفت .چه بايد ميگفت؟ اصلاچه اهميتي مي داد به من ؟ آفتاب كلافه ام كرده بود.عجله دارم و دردي در سر.نبايد قرص ها را دور ميريختم. صدا را مي شنوي؟كسي حرف مي زند. ضربان دردناك رگهاي پيشاني ام را همين حالا مي نويسم.به خانه كه مي رسم سيگار را كشيده و نكشيده به زمين تف مي كنم. قطرات عرق به شكل كلماتي لزج و مرطوب از سر و صورتم ميجوشد.بوي ترش چوب كاج دلم را آشوب مي كند.كليد را داخل توپي قفل مي چرخانم.در را آرام باز ميكنم.نسيمي خنك به سر و صورتم مي پيچد.كفشها را همان جا مي گذارم، ببين! اينجا ! نقشي مرطوب از جوراب هاي متعفن ، ميبيني؟ از دم در تا پله ها .بايد گيرشان بندازم.
3

- نه..نه..دروغ ميگي…
- خفه شو.. يه ساعته دارم زنگ مي زنم….
- تلفن زنگ نزده، ...لابد خرابه
- تو خرابي نه تلفن…بگو با كي بودي كثافت…
- مگه قول ندادي ديگه عذابم ندي…
- گمشو…بگو داشتي چه غلطي ميكردي؟
- جون مي كندم، جاروكشي، پخت و پز…نمي بيني؟ دارم كلفتي ات رو مي كنم.
- ها!!؟…بگو عياشي، خيانت، فكر كردي حاليم نيس؟
- خجالت بكش مرد …قرصات كجاس؟ بذار برم بيارمش…
- كجا؟ ..ميخوام چنان بلائي سرت بيارم كه از هر چي مرد جماعته حالت بهم بخوره.
- دستمو ول كن..
- بياببينم خوشگله..
- ولم كن زده به سرت؟
- آره چه جورم..
4
گفتم: ولم كن زده به سرت…
داد زد: آره چه جورم..
دستم رو گرفت و كشيد، دردم اومد. هلم داد عقب.نزديك بود سرم به چارچوب در اتاق خوابمون بخوره.جلو اومد، جيغ زدم.دستمو گرفت و فشار داد .به صورتش خنج كشيدم.داد زد.از اتاق زدم بيرون.دويدم.از راهرو گذشتم. هنوز يكي دو پله رو بالا نرفته بودم كه از پشت منو گرفت. لباسم پاره شد.داد ميزد و لباسامو از تنم مي كند.زور زدم تا از دستش خلاص بشم ، نشد تقلا كردم . دست و پا زدم، فايده اي نداشت .دستشو گاز گرفتم. سرم رو محكم كوبيد به پله ها.چشام سياهي رفت.درد نداشتم. بيشترگيج بودم. انگار داشتم خواب مي ديدم.ميديدم مردي پاي زني را گرفته و روي پله ها ميكشيد.زن را كشان كشان به آشپزخانه برد .در آغوشش كشيد، بوسيدش. زن ميلرزيد و مرد نوازشش مي كرد.چشم بستم اما صداي تنفس سريع و منقطع مرد لحظه اي راحتم نميگذاشت.وقتي همه جا ساكت شد دوباره ديدمش.مرد خودش راكنار كشيد . كنار زن خوابيد و چشم دوخت به سقف ، همان جائي كه من بودم.
مرد گفت: پاشو يه استكان چائي بده دست شوهرت.
و من كه دلم مي خواست برايش چاي بريزم آه كشيدم.
والسلام/ بازنويسي خرداد 82/ شيراز

TRUE LOVE

THE WORDS FORMED SENTENCES ON MONITOR SCREEN. HE READ THEM

.SUCH A WONDER FUL WAS OUR GREETING .WHEN I SAW YOU IN THE RAIN ,FORGET SADNESS AND MY PAIN.LET ME SHOW YOU I LOVE YOU
LOVE YOU TOO MUCH .ITS THE TRUE
HE SMILED AND SENT IT TO ALL THE GIRLS IN THAT CHAT ROOM!

Endless road

- take off your clothes.please.
she got baggy at the knees. he had put his gun on her forehead.
- No...don't…don't…
- Hushshsh…
he said and look at the window, the kids were crying in the yard.
- soldier
- sergeant?
- quite them.
- yes sir.
Stared at her.the sun was going down .Purple Sunset was reflected on his Dark glasses
-Any thing wrong? I don't wanna hurt you.where is he? Tell me and go.
- I don't know
- You lie, honey.where is the commander?
. Put his hand on her naked shoulder.
- you 'll tell me where he is. Ok?
- She pushed herself back. .
- don't… please..don't touch me.
- Shut up you…
He gave a slap to her face.
- fuck you…ass hole..
he beated her,she cried, he striked with the fist.
- you, son of a bitch…
he wore out her madly, she shouted.man held her tight, she groaned painfully and heard her kid's crying meanwhile. They struggled but a soldier were heldthem .
- mummm…
- boooom…
the kids trembled, sergeant stood up on the window frame.blood drops were covered his face , he raised his arms and shouted…
-noooooooo…
somebody shaked his shoulders.
- hey, wake up man.
- what?
Passengers were asleep .a man in black suit who had sat beside him asked: are you o.k?
He answered: yes,…fine.
- night mare ? ..ha?
He said nothing. The bus was traveling through the desert.out side was dark here you are.
- I don't smoke.
- Me too.
He throw away it.
- you're afraid.
he noded.Black suit man smiled.
- forget, we are reality, just you and me. The others' have gone. Remember war is over and we are alive, is'nt this reality?
- Yes.
- Ok.Bijan Kia.
- Adam anderson.
- Nice to meet you.
They shake hands with each others.
- Let me see your hand?
- What?
- I know palmistry.
- Really?
- Really, really.
-

- I don't believe in
- Have to do….Vow…,you love your wife too much, see. this line shows your love… you worried about her? …
- No.
- You lie. You think she was killed.
- ok, ok, , I scare, I worry, I,I angry…how do you know these? … ha?
- I asked your hand..let me see your hand again….ummm…you fought , injured , something or some body saves your survival, I don't know,how, what or who.may be it's me.(he laugh)
- are you magician?
- juggler, you mean?.
- I don't believe you.
- be a believer.
- Why?
- Why not? You don't know me but I know you, you can't see truth but I can do….hey, hey body take it easy , ok? Adam Anderson, where are you going?
- To my home, I have two kids , they're waiting for me.
- You wrong but I know where you are going.
- where?
- To hell!
- Get lost…
- With you.
- Who are you?
Adam, stood up.
- who are you?
- Your friend, if you understand.
- No, you lie, get out…
- Shout, cry, louder…come on man…look around and see, they have slept, for ever.
He saw them, their silence, gray faces and endless darkness.
- you killed them?
- No, you did.
- What do you mean? Shit, you crazy, I'm a soldier who is coming back to home.
- Which home or familly?you are death..
- No
- Yes and they are mine.
- Who are you …buster?
- Evil…..demon knight…I need you.
- noooooooooooooooo………..
somebody shaked his shoulder
- mr Anderson?wake up ,…
- what?
- Open your eyes.
The patients were asleep .a man in white suit who had stood up beside him.
he asked: are you o.k?

He answered: fine.
- night mare ?
He said nothing. The hospital was quite and out side was dark .
- where is here?
- rose hospital.you're afraid.
he noded.white suit man smiled.
- Forget ,here is reality.
- What ?

- Relax and be calm . you were in coma for six years,can you believe it? do you want to see your family?
He noded, white suit man whnked at him.
- mrs. Anderson?!
He tried to raise. But could not.
- relax. don’t try to try
- hello Adam.
He turned and saw his wife.smiled, she did too and covered her face with hands. tears filled her eyes.
- are you ok?
- yes, she answerd.
He looked at the kidswhome she hold them.
- peter and John?
-jesus christ…
but he saw a little girl who were hidden behind her wife . he stare her.
- ok, , happy end and lucky familly.end of story, see you later , bye bye.
- Thank you doctor kia.she said.
- You're welcome.
He went out the room.
- who was him?
- Your doctor, Bijan Kia, He writes short story too.. , don't know this?-





























-

Young Goodman Brown came forth at sunset into the street at Salem village; but put his head back, after crossing the threshold, to exchange a parting kiss with his young wife. And Faith, as the wife was aptly named, thrust her own pretty head into the street, letting the wind play with the pink ribbons of her cap while she called to Goodman Brown.
"Dearest heart," whispered she, softly and rather sadly, when her lips were close to his ear, "prithee put off your journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed to-night. A lone woman is troubled with such dreams and such thoughts that she's afeard of herself sometimes. Pray tarry with me this night, dear husband, of all nights in the year."
"My love and my Faith," replied young Goodman Brown, "of all nights in the year, this one night must I tarry away from thee. My journey, as thou callest it, forth and back again, must needs be done 'twixt now and sunrise. What, my sweet, pretty wife, dost thou doubt me already, and we but three months married?"
"Then God bless youe!" said Faith, with the pink ribbons; "and may you find all well whn you come back."
"Amen!" cried Goodman Brown. "Say thy prayers, dear Faith, and go to bed at dusk, and no harm will come to thee."
So they parted; and the young man pursued his way until, being about to turn the corner by the meeting-house, he looked back and saw the head of Faith still peeping after him with a melancholy air, in spite of her pink ribbons.
"Poor little Faith!" thought he, for his heart smote him. "What a wretch am I to leave her on such an errand! She talks of dreams, too. Methought as she spoke there was trouble in her face, as if a dream had warned her what work is to be done tonight. But no, no; 't would kill her to think it. Well, she's a blessed angel on earth; and after this one night I'll cling to her skirts and follow her to heaven."
With this excellent resolve for the future, Goodman Brown felt himself justified in making more haste on his present evil purpose. He had taken a dreary road, darkened by all the gloomiest trees of the forest, which barely stood aside to let the narrow path creep through, and closed immediately behind. It was all as lonely as could be; and there is this peculiarity in such a solitude, that the traveller knows not who may be concealed by the innumerable trunks and the thick boughs overhead; so that with lonely footsteps he may yet be passing through an unseen multitude.
"There may be a devilish Indian behind every tree," said Goodman Brown to himself; and he glanced fearfully behind him as he added, "What if the devil himself should be at my very elbow!"
His head being turned back, he passed a crook of the road, and, looking forward again, beheld the figure of a man, in grave and decent attire, seated at the foot of an old tree. He arose at Goodman Brown's approach and walked onward side by side with him.
"You are late, Goodman Brown," said he. "The clock of the Old South was striking as I came through Boston, and that is full fifteen minutes agone."
"Faith kept me back a while," replied the young man, with a tremor in his voice, caused by the sudden appearance of his companion, though not wholly unexpected.
It was now deep dusk in the forest, and deepest in that part of it where these two were journeying. As nearly as could be discerned, the second traveller was about fifty years old, apparently in the same rank of life as Goodman Brown, and bearing a considerable resemblance to him, though perhaps more in expression than features. Still they might have been taken for father and son. And yet, though the elder person was as simply clad as the younger, and as simple in manner too, he had an indescribable air of one who knew the world, and who would not have felt abashed at the governor's dinner table or in King William's court, were it possible that his affairs should call him thither. But the only thing about him that could be fixed upon as remarkable was his staff, which bore the likeness of a great black snake, so curiously wrought that it might almost be seen to twist and wriggle itself like a living serpent. This, of course, must have been an ocular deception, assisted by the uncertain light.
"Come, Goodman Brown," cried his fellow-traveller, "this is a dull pace for the beginning of a journey. Take my staff, if you are so soon weary."
"Friend," said the other, exchanging his slow pace for a full stop, "having kept covenant by meeting thee here, it is my purpose now to return whence I came. I have scruples touching the matter thou wot'st of."
"Sayest thou so?" replied he of the serpent, smiling apart. "Let us walk on, nevertheless, reasoning as we go; and if I convince thee not thou shalt turn back. We are but a little way in the forest yet."
"Too far! too far!" exclaimed the goodman, unconsciously resuming his walk. "My father never went into the woods on such an errand, nor his father before him. We have been a race of honest men and good Christians since the days of the martyrs; and shall I be the first of the name of Brown that ever took this path and kept"
"Such company, thou wouldst say," observed the elder person, interpreting his pause. "Well said, Goodman Brown! I have been as well acquainted with your family as with ever a one among the Puritans; and that's no trifle to say. I helped your grandfather, the constable, when he lashed the Quaker woman so smartly through the streets of Salem; and it was I that brought your father a pitch-pine knot, kindled at my own hearth, to set fire to an Indian village, in King Philip's war. They were my good friends, both; and many a pleasant walk have we had along this path, and returned merrily after midnight. I would fain be friends with you for their sake."
"If it be as thou sayest," replied Goodman Brown, "I marvel they never spoke of these matters; or, verily, I marvel not, seeing that the least rumor of the sort would have driven them from New England. We are a people of prayer, and good works to boot, and abide no such wickedness."
"Wickedness or not," said the traveller with the twisted staff, "I have a very general acquaintance here in New England. The deacons of many a church have drunk the communion wine with me; the selectmen of divers towns make me their chairman; and a majority of the Great and General Court are firm supporters of my interest. The governor and I, too--But these are state secrets."
"Can this be so?" cried Goodman Brown, with a stare of amazement at his undisturbed companion. "Howbeit, I have nothing to do with the governor and council; they have their own ways, and are no rule for a simple husbandman like me. But, were I to go on with thee, how should I meet the eye of that good old man, our minister, at Salem village? Oh, his voice would make me tremble both Sabbath day and lecture day."
Thus far the elder traveller had listened with due gravity; but now burst into a fit of irrepressible mirth, shaking himself so violently that his snake-like staff actually seemed to wriggle in sympathy.
"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted he again and again; then composing himself, "Well, go on, Goodman Brown, go on; but, prithee, don't kill me with laughing."
"Well, then, to end the matter at once," said Goodman Brown, considerably nettled, "there is my wife, Faith. It would break her dear little heart; and I'd rather break my own."
"Nay, if that be the case," answered the other, "e'en go thy ways, Goodman Brown. I would not for twenty old women like the one hobbling before us that Faith should come to any harm."
As he spoke he pointed his staff at a female figure on the path, in whom Goodman Brown recognized a very pious and exemplary dame, who had taught him his catechism in youth, and was still his moral and spiritual adviser, jointly with the minister and Deacon Gookin.
"A marvel, truly, that Goody Cloyse should be so far in the wilderness at nightfall," said he. "But with your leave, friend, I shall take a cut through the woods until we have left this Christian woman behind. Being a stranger to you, she might ask whom I was consorting with and whither I was going."
"Be it so," said his fellow-traveller. "Betake you to the woods, and let me keep the path."
Accordingly the young man turned aside, but took care to watch his companion, who advanced softly along the road until he had come within a staff's length of the old dame. She, meanwhile, was making the best of her way, with singular speed for so aged a woman, and mumbling some indistinct words--a prayer, doubtless--as she went. The traveller put forth his staff and touched her withered neck with what seemed the serpent's tail.
"The devil!" screamed the pious old lady.
"Then Goody Cloyse knows her old friend?" observed the traveller, confronting her and leaning on his writhing stick.
"Ah, forsooth, and is it your worship indeed?" cried the good dame. "Yea, truly is it, and in the very image of my old gossip, Goodman Brown, the grandfather of the silly fellow that now is. But--would your worship believe it?--my broomstick hath strangely disappeared, stolen, as I suspect, by that unhanged witch, Goody Cory, and that, too, when I was all anointed with the juice of smallage, and cinquefoil, and wolf's bane"
"Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-born babe," said the shape of old Goodman Brown.
"Ah, your worship knows the recipe," cried the old lady, cackling aloud. "So, as I was saying, being all ready for the meeting, and no horse to ride on, I made up my mind to foot it; for they tell me there is a nice young man to be taken into communion to-night. But now your good worship will lend me your arm, and we shall be there in a twinkling."
"That can hardly be," answered her friend. "I may not spare you my arm, Goody Cloyse; but here is my staff, if you will."
So saying, he threw it down at her feet, where, perhaps, it assumed life, being one of the rods which its owner had formerly lent to the Egyptian magi. Of this fact, however, Goodman Brown could not take cognizance. He had cast up his eyes in astonishment, and, looking down again, beheld neither Goody Cloyse nor the serpentine staff, but his fellow-traveller alone, who waited for him as calmly as if nothing had happened.
"That old woman taught me my catechism," said the young man; and there was a world of meaning in this simple comment.
They continued to walk onward, while the elder traveller exhorted his companion to make good speed and persevere in the path, discoursing so aptly that his arguments seemed rather to spring up in the bosom of his auditor than to be suggested by himself. As they went, he plucked a branch of maple to serve for a walking stick, and began to strip it of the twigs and little boughs, which were wet with evening dew. The moment his fingers touched them they became strangely withered and dried up as with a week's sunshine. Thus the pair proceeded, at a good free pace, until suddenly, in a gloomy hollow of the road, Goodman Brown sat himself down on the stump of a tree and refused to go any farther.
"Friend," said he, stubbornly, "my mind is made up. Not another step will I budge on this errand. What if a wretched old woman do choose to go to the devil when I thought she was going to heaven: is that any reason why I should quit my dear Faith and go after her?"
"You will think better of this by and by," said his acquaintance, composedly. "Sit here and rest yourself a while; and when you feel like moving again, there is my staff to help you along."
Without more words, he threw his companion the maple stick, and was as speedily out of sight as if he had vanished into the deepening gloom. The young man sat a few moments by the roadside, applauding himself greatly, and thinking with how clear a conscience he should meet the minister in his morning walk, nor shrink from the eye of good old Deacon Gookin. And what calm sleep would be his that very night, which was to have been spent so wickedly, but so purely and sweetly now, in the arms of Faith! Amidst these pleasant and praiseworthy meditations, Goodman Brown heard the tramp of horses along the road, and deemed it advisable to conceal himself within the verge of the forest, conscious of the guilty purpose that had brought him thither, though now so happily turned from it.
On came the hoof tramps and the voices of the riders, two grave old voices, conversing soberly as they drew near. These mingled sounds appeared to pass along the road, within a few yards of the young man's hiding-place; but, owing doubtless to the depth of the gloom at that particular spot, neither the travellers nor their steeds were visible. Though their figures brushed the small boughs by the wayside, it could not be seen that they intercepted, even for a moment, the faint gleam from the strip of bright sky athwart which they must have passed. Goodman Brown alternately crouched and stood on tiptoe, pulling aside the branches and thrusting forth his head as far as he durst without discerning so much as a shadow. It vexed him the more, because he could have sworn, were such a thing possible, that he recognized the voices of the minister and Deacon Gookin, jogging along quietly, as they were wont to do, when bound to some ordination or ecclesiastical council. While yet within hearing, one of the riders stopped to pluck a switch.
"Of the two, reverend sir," said the voice like the deacon's, "I had rather miss an ordination dinner than to-night's meeting. They tell me that some of our community are to be here from Falmouth and beyond, and others from Connecticut and Rhode Island, besides several of the Indian powwows, who, after their fashion, know almost as much deviltry as the best of us. Moreover, there is a goodly young woman to be taken into communion."
"Mighty well, Deacon Gookin!" replied the solemn old tones of the minister. "Spur up, or we shall be late. Nothing can be done, you know, until I get on the ground."
The hoofs clattered again; and the voices, talking so strangely in the empty air, passed on through the forest, where no church had ever been gathered or solitary Christian prayed. Whither, then, could these holy men be journeying so deep into the heathen wilderness? Young Goodman Brown caught hold of a tree for support, being ready to sink down on the ground, faint and overburdened with the heavy sickness of his heart. He looked up to the sky, doubting whether there really was a heaven above him. Yet there was the blue arch, and the stars brightening in it.
"With heaven above and Faith below, I will yet stand firm against the devil!" cried Goodman Brown.
While he still gazed upward into the deep arch of the firmament and had lifted his hands to pray, a cloud, though no wind was stirring, hurried across the zenith and hid the brightening stars. The blue sky was still visible, except directly overhead, where this black mass of cloud was sweeping swiftly northward. Aloft in the air, as if from the depths of the cloud, came a confused and doubtful sound of voices. Once the listener fancied that he could distinguish the accents of towns-people of his own, men and women, both pious and ungodly, many of whom he had met at the communion table, and had seen others rioting at the tavern. The next moment, so indistinct were the sounds, he doubted whether he had heard aught but the murmur of the old forest, whispering without a wind. Then came a stronger swell of those familiar tones, heard daily in the sunshine at Salem village, but never until now from a cloud of night There was one voice of a young woman, uttering lamentations, yet with an uncertain sorrow, and entreating for some favor, which, perhaps, it would grieve her to obtain; and all the unseen multitude, both saints and sinners, seemed to encourage her onward.
"Faith!" shouted Goodman Brown, in a voice of agony and desperation; and the echoes of the forest mocked him, crying, "Faith! Faith!" as if bewildered wretches were seeking her all through the wilderness.
The cry of grief, rage, and terror was yet piercing the night, when the unhappy husband held his breath for a response. There was a scream, drowned immediately in a louder murmur of voices, fading into far-off laughter, as the dark cloud swept away, leaving the clear and silent sky above Goodman Brown. But something fluttered lightly down through the air and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized it, and beheld a pink ribbon.
"My Faith is gone!" cried he, after one stupefied moment. "There is no good on earth; and sin is but a name. Come, devil; for to thee is this world given."
And, maddened with despair, so that he laughed loud and long, did Goodman Brown grasp his staff and set forth again, at such a rate that he seemed to fly along the forest path rather than to walk or run. The road grew wilder and drearier and more faintly traced, and vanished at length, leaving him in the heart of the dark wilderness, still rushing onward with the instinct that guides mortal man to evil. The whole forest was peopled with frightful sounds--the creaking of the trees, the howling of wild beasts, and the yell of Indians; while sometimes the wind tolled like a distant church bell, and sometimes gave a broad roar around the traveller, as if all Nature were laughing him to scorn. But he was himself the chief horror of the scene, and shrank not from its other horrors.
"Ha! ha! ha!" roared Goodman Brown when the wind laughed at him.
"Let us hear which will laugh loudest. Think not to frighten me with your deviltry. Come witch, come wizard, come Indian powwow, come devil himself, and here comes Goodman Brown. You may as well fear him as he fear you."
In truth, all through the haunted forest there could be nothing more frightful than the figure of Goodman Brown. On he flew among the black pines, brandishing his staff with frenzied gestures, now giving vent to an inspiration of horrid blasphemy, and now shouting forth such laughter as set all the echoes of the forest laughing like demons around him. The fiend in his own shape is less hideous than when he rages in the breast of man. Thus sped the demoniac on his course, until, quivering among the trees, he saw a red light before him, as when the felled trunks and branches of a clearing have been set on fire, and throw up their lurid blaze against the sky, at the hour of midnight. He paused, in a lull of the tempest that had driven him onward, and heard the swell of what seemed a hymn, rolling solemnly from a distance with the weight of many voices. He knew the tune; it was a familiar one in the choir of the village meeting-house. The verse died heavily away, and was lengthened by a chorus, not of human voices, but of all the sounds of the benighted wilderness pealing in awful harmony together. Goodman Brown cried out, and his cry was lost to his own ear by its unison with the cry of the desert.
In the interval of silence he stole forward until the light glared full upon his eyes. At one extremity of an open space, hemmed in by the dark wall of the forest, arose a rock, bearing some rude, natural resemblance either to an alter or a pulpit, and surrounded by four blazing pines, their tops aflame, their stems untouched, like candles at an evening meeting. The mass of foliage that had overgrown the summit of the rock was all on fire, blazing high into the night and fitfully illuminating the whole field. Each pendent twig and leafy festoon was in a blaze. As the red light arose and fell, a numerous congregation alternately shone forth, then disappeared in shadow, and again grew, as it were, out of the darkness, peopling the heart of the solitary woods at once.
"A grave and dark-clad company," quoth Goodman Brown.
In truth they were such. Among them, quivering to and fro between gloom and splendor, appeared faces that would be seen next day at the council board of the province, and others which, Sabbath after Sabbath, looked devoutly heavenward, and benignantly over the crowded pews, from the holiest pulpits in the land. Some affirm that the lady of the governor was there. At least there were high dames well known to her, and wives of honored husbands, and widows, a great multitude, and ancient maidens, all of excellent repute, and fair young girls, who trembled lest their mothers should espy them. Either the sudden gleams of light flashing over the obscure field bedazzled Goodman Brown, or he recognized a score of the church members of Salem village famous for their especial sanctity. Good old Deacon Gookin had arrived, and waited at the skirts of that venerable saint, his revered pastor. But, irreverently consorting with these grave, reputable, and pious people, these elders of the church, these chaste dames and dewy virgins, there were men of dissolute lives and women of spotted fame, wretches given over to all mean and filthy vice, and suspected even of horrid crimes. It was strange to see that the good shrank not from the wicked, nor were the sinners abashed by the saints. Scattered also among their pale-faced enemies were the Indian priests, or powwows, who had often scared their native forest with more hideous incantations than any known to English witchcraft.
"But where is Faith?" thought Goodman Brown; and, as hope came into his heart, he trembled.
Another verse of the hymn arose, a slow and mournful strain, such as the pious love, but joined to words which expressed all that our nature can conceive of sin, and darkly hinted at far more. Unfathomable to mere mortals is the lore of fiends. Verse after verse was sung; and still the chorus of the desert swelled between like the deepest tone of a mighty organ; and with the final peal of that dreadful anthem there came a sound, as if the roaring wind, the rushing streams, the howling beasts, and every other voice of the unconcerted wilderness were mingling and according with the voice of guilty man in homage to the prince of all. The four blazing pines threw up a loftier flame, and obscurely discovered shapes and visages of horror on the smoke wreaths above the impious assembly. At the same moment the fire on the rock shot redly forth and formed a glowing arch above its base, where now appeared a figure. With reverence be it spoken, the figure bore no slight similitude, both in garb and manner, to some grave divine of the New England churches.
"Bring forth the converts!" cried a voice that echoed through the field and rolled into the forest.
At the word, Goodman Brown stepped forth from the shadow of the trees and approached the congregation, with whom he felt a loathful brotherhood by the sympathy of all that was wicked in his heart. He could have well-nigh sworn that the shape of his own dead father beckoned him to advance, looking downward from a smoke wreath, while a woman, with dim features of despair, threw out her hand to warn him back. Was it his mother? But he had no power to retreat one step, nor to resist, even in thought, when the minister and good old Deacon Gookin seized his arms and led him to the blazing rock. Thither came also the slender form of a veiled female, led between Goody Cloyse, that pious teacher of the catechism, and Martha Carrier, who had received the devil's promise to be queen of hell. A rampant hag was she. And there stood the proselytes beneath the canopy of fire.
"Welcome, my children," said the dark figure, "to the communion of your race. Ye have found thus young your nature and your destiny. My children, look behind you!"
They turned; and flashing forth, as it were, in a sheet of flame, the fiend worshippers were seen; the smile of welcome gleamed darkly on every visage.
"There," resumed the sable form, "are all whom ye have reverenced from youth. Ye deemed them holier than yourselves, and shrank from your own sin, contrasting it with their lives of righteousness and prayerful aspirations heavenward. Yet here are they all in my worshipping assembly. This night it shall be granted you to know their secret deeds: how hoary-bearded elders of the church have whispered wanton words to the young maids of their households; how many a woman, eager for widows' weeds, has given her husband a drink at bedtime and let him sleep his last sleep in her bosom; how beardless youths have made haste to inherit their fathers' wealth; and how fair damsels--blush not, sweet ones--have dug little graves in the garden, and bidden me, the sole guest to an infant's funeral. By the sympathy of your human hearts for sin ye shall scent out all the places--whether in church, bedchamber, street, field, or forest--where crime has been committed, and shall exult to behold the whole earth one stain of guilt, one mighty blood spot. Far more than this. It shall be yours to penetrate, in every bosom, the deep mystery of sin, the fountain of all wicked arts, and which inexhaustibly supplies more evil impulses than human power--than my power at its utmost--can make manifest in deeds. And now, my children, look upon each other."
They did so; and, by the blaze of the hell-kindled torches, the wretched man beheld his Faith, and the wife her husband, trembling before that unhallowed altar.
"Lo, there ye stand, my children," said the figure, in a deep and solemn tone, almost sad with its despairing awfulness, as if his once angelic nature could yet mourn for our miserable race. "Depending upon one another's hearts, ye had still hoped that virtue were not all a dream. Now are ye undeceived. Evil is the nature of mankind. Evil must be your only happiness. Welcome again, my children, to the communion of your race."
"Welcome," repeated the fiend worshippers, in one cry of despair and triumph.
And there they stood, the only pair, as it seemed, who were yet hesitating on the verge of wickedness in this dark world. A basin was hollowed, naturally, in the rock. Did it contain water, reddened by the lurid light? or was it blood? or, perchance, a liquid flame? Herein did the shape of evil dip his hand and prepare to lay the mark of baptism upon their foreheads, that they might be partakers of the mystery of sin, more conscious of the secret guilt of others, both in deed and thought, than they could now be of their own. The husband cast one look at his pale wife, and Faith at him. What polluted wretches would the next glance show them to each other, shuddering alike at what they disclosed and what they saw!
"Faith! Faith!" cried the husband, "look up to heaven, and resist the wicked one."
Whether Faith obeyed he knew not. Hardly had he spoken when he found himself amid calm night and solitude, listening to a roar of the wind which died heavily away through the forest. He staggered against the rock, and felt it chill and damp; while a hanging twig, that had been all on fire, besprinkled his cheek with the coldest dew.
The next morning young Goodman Brown came slowly into the street of Salem village, staring around him like a bewildered man. The good old minister was taking a walk along the graveyard to get an appetite for breakfast and meditate his sermon, and bestowed a blessing, as he passed, on Goodman Brown. He shrank from the venerable saint as if to avoid an anathema. Old Deacon Gookin was at domestic worship, and the holy words of his prayer were heard through the open window. "What God doth the wizard pray to?" quoth Goodman Brown. Goody Cloyse, that excellent old Christian, stood in the early sunshine at her own lattice, catechizing a little girl who had brought her a pint of morning's milk. Goodman Brown snatched away the child as from the grasp of the fiend himself. Turning the corner by the meeting-house, he spied the head of Faith, with the pink ribbons, gazing anxiously forth, and bursting into such joy at sight of him that she skipped along the street and almost kissed her husband before the whole village. But Goodman Brown looked sternly and sadly into her face, and passed on without a greeting.
Had Goodman Brown fallen asleep in the forest and only dreamed a wild dream of a witch-meeting?
Be it so if you will; but, alas! it was a dream of evil omen for young Goodman Brown. A stern, a sad, a darkly meditative, a distrustful, if not a desperate man did he become from the night of that fearful dream. On the Sabbath day, when the congregation were singing a holy psalm, he could not listen because an anthem of sin rushed loudly upon his ear and drowned all the blessed strain. When the minister spoke from the pulpit with power and fervid eloquence, and, with his hand on the open Bible, of the sacred truths of our religion, and of saint-like lives and triumphant deaths, and of future bliss or misery unutterable, then did Goodman Brown turn pale, dreading lest the roof should thunder down upon the gray blasphemer and his hearers. Often, waking suddenly at midnight, he shrank from the bosom of Faith; and at morning or eventide, when the family knelt down at prayer, he scowled and muttered to himself, and gazed sternly at his wife, and turned away. And when he had lived long, and was borne to his grave a hoary corpse, followed by Faith, an aged woman, and children and grandchildren, a goodly procession, besides neighbors not a few, they carved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone, for his dying hour was gloom.

:: Apocalypse Please
declare this an emergency
come on and spread a sense of urgency
and pull us through
and pull us through

and this is the end
this is the end
of the world

and it's time we saw a miracle
come on, it's time for something biblical
to pull us through
and pull us through

and this is the end
this is the end
of the world

proclaim enternal victory
come on and change the cause of history
and pull us through
and pull us through

and this is the end
this is the end
of the world

change,
everything you are
and everything you were
your number has been called
fights, battles have begun
revenge will surely come
your hard times are ahead

best,
you've got to be the best
you've got to change the world
and you use this chance to be heard
your time is now

تاكسي

ترافیک در خياباني مثل همه ي خيابان هاي شهري مثل همه ي کلان شهر هاي كشوري كه مثل هيچ كشوري نيست. غروب بود .تاکسی درانبوه دیگر اتومبیل ها گرفتار شده بود که راننده میان تک سرفه هایش کانال رادیو را تنظیم کرد.
-با عرض سلامی دوباره از مرکز کنترل ترافیک آخرین اخبار ترافیکی را تقدیمتان میکنیم...
رادیو را خاموش کرد.تنها مسافری که در تاکسی نشسته بود زیپ کاپشن چرمی اش را بالا کشیدو در را باز کرد.لکه هایی سیاه که قار قارشان تمامی نداشت خاکستری آسمان را پوشانده بودند.

-پیاده میشم...
در را بست ومیان اتومبیل ها براه افتاد. آسمان ابری بودو سرد.صف ماشین ها که تکان خورد راننده به خیابانی فرعی پیچید.
هنوز به تقاطع بعدی نرسیده بود که مردی از پیاده رو خودش را به خیابان انداخت ودر حالی که میدوید با دست به بدنه تاکسی ضربه زد.
-هی.. نگه دار..در بست
درشت هیکل بود و کت و شلواری تیره به تن داشت. تاکسی در میانه توقف و حرکت بود که مرد سوار شد.
-اون سفیده... برو دنیالش...
-چی؟
-اون پرایده...در نره یه وقت...
تاکسی براه افتاد. پراید از چهارراه گذشت . تاکسی هم
از چراغ زرد عبور کرد.

-ماه محرمه...شرم نمیکنن

-چی شده؟
-خصوصیه.. ولی کرایه ات هر چی بشه میدم....اونا..اونا..میخواد بره تو بزرگراه ....(مرد دستی به ریش جو گندمی اش کشید).از دستمون نره؟
پراید سفید بین اتومبیل ها پیچ و تاب میخورد و تاکسی هم از کنار یکی دو ماشین گذشت.
-..دست فرمونت خوبه
-مدتی یه آمبولانس دستم بود
-.. شهر رو معصیت ورداشته ..
فاصله هردو اتومبیل کمتر و کمتر میشد
-چیزی نمونده ها ..
تلفن همراه مرد زنگ زد.
- الو..سلام علیکم..احوال حاج آقا؟..ممنون..ای به لطفتون بد نیستم..امر؟ ..بله..بله.. کدومشون؟..بله.. کوچیکه دیگه..بله...فردا شب..نه ..مشکلی نیس ..کجا؟..فرمانیه دیگه..بله..حتما"..نه..ممنون..عرضی نیس..خدا نگهدار..
تلفن را در جیب کتش گذاشت.
-چرا ماسک زدی؟
راننده جوابداد: دودو کثافت.. نمیتونم..حساسیته
تاکسی سپر به سپر پراید حرکت میکرد. سه نفر بودند.دو مرد جوان در جلو و دختری هیجده نوزده ساله که عقب نشسته بود. راننده چراغ زد. دختر برگشت . نگاه کرد.سرش را دزدید.پراید فاصله گرفت.
-میخوادبره کمربندی.
پراید به خروجی بزرگراه پیچید تاکسی به سرعت از بزرگراه خارج شدراننده به پلاکی که از آینه آویزان بود نگانی انداخت دنده عوض کرد و پدال گاز را تا آخر فشار داد.اتومبیل ها شانه به شانه شدند. مرد به سرعت شیشه را پائین کشید. راننده تاکسی به سرفه افتاد.
-بی ناموس بزن کنار...کثافت...
راننده پراید با چشمانی گرد به مردی که فریاد میزد و دشنام میداد خیره بود. تاکسی مسیر پراید را تنگ کرد.
مرد پیاده شد.آن که کنار راننده بود به طرفش رفت . مرد او را به سوئی هل داد. راننده از زیر صندلی چوبی برداشت . مرد چاقوی ضامن داری در آورد آن را به دندان گرفت . به تندی کتش را در آورد. راننده عقب نشست.مرد راهش را کج کرد لگدی به اتومبیل کوبید .در عقب را باز کرد .

-بیا بیرون
دختر را که مقاومت می کرد بیرون کشید و به زور به داخل تاکسی برد.
-تو...حیا نداری؟.. خجالت نمیکشی؟
دختر نفس نفس زنان سرش را پائین انداخته بود.
-چرااین کارو میکنی؟مگه من چیزی برات کم گذاشتم؟
دست برد تا گونه دختر را نوازش کند . دختر خودش را کنار کشید.

برم کلانتری؟راننده میان تک سرفه هایش پرسیده بود.
-نه..میریم خونه..
دختر گفت: من نمیام
-غلط کردی ..برو آقا..میریم کیان شهر
-نه .. بااونا نه..
مرد سیلی محکمی به دختر زد. دختر جیغ کشید.راننده از آینه نگاهشان میکرد . پراید از کنارشان گذشت.
دختر داد زد: با اونا نه.. نمیتونم...منو بکش خدااااااااا....
به صورت مرد ناخن کشید.مردهر دو دست دختر را گرفت . دختر به صورت مرد تف کرد.مرد مشتی به صورت دختر زد . سر دختر به شیشه خورد و گیج گوشه ای مچاله شد.
-...برو دیگه چرا منو نیگا میکنی؟
-گم شو پائین
مرد نگاهش کرد: چی ی ی ی؟
راننده قفل فرمان را برداشت
-گمشو پائین
در را باز کرد
مرد :تنت میخاره؟
پیاده شد
- میدونی من کی ام؟
هنوزچاقو یش را بیرون نکشیده بود که راننده به دست و سر مرد چند ضربه زد.
-گم..شو..گم..شو.. ح..روم..زاده..
از درد به خود می پیچید . راننده نفس نفس میزد.مرد نیم خیز شد. باریکه ای خون روی صورتش شیار بسته بود.راننده میله را بالا گرفت. مرد عقب عقب رفت .
مرد جیبهایش را گشت راننده روی صندلی عقب کت مرد را دید آن را به بیرون پرت کرد. مرد کت را برداشت
-ننه ات رو...
و در تاریکی محو شد . راننده به اطراف نگاه کرد.تک سرفه ها رهایش نکرده بودند. جاده خلوت بود و ریز دانه های برف در سکوت همه چیز را می پوشاندند. برف نشسته بر شیشه را جمع کرد .در مشت فشرد.در عقب را باز کرد. خم شد وآ گلوله یخ را بر گونه دختر گذاشت.
-کجاس؟
دختر سر چرخاند و اطراف را نگاه کرد
-جهنم.. دندونت شیکسته
دختر گوشه خون آلود لبش را لمس کرد و سر تکان داد.
- سر راه یه دست دندون مصنوعی میگیرم
راننده لبخند زد. دختر خندید.
-چند سالته؟
دختر به راننده نگاه کرد.
-داشتیم؟!
راننده دستمالی از جیب درآرود و به دختر داد.
-مهم نیس..نگو
دختر دستمال را گرفت و دهانش را پاک کرد.
-هفده سال و دوماه و نمیدونم چند روز...آرایش میکنم تا سنم بیشتر نشون بده...دیگه بر نمیگرده؟
راننده مکثی کرد.
-نه..
دختر دوباره خندید
- اون کی بود؟
خنده اش برید و بغض کرد
-..نمی خوام یادم بیاد...بیا بریم میترسم برگرده..کاش میشد همه چی رو فراموش کرد
-ولی من خیلی چیزا رو میخوام یادم بمونه
دختر به نقطه ای خیره شده بود که پرسید:لابد زندگی خوبی داشتی
-میشد مرگ خوبی هم داشنه باشم اگه قسمت بود
-زن داری؟
راننده ایستاد .به تاکسی تکیه دادو گفت:خدا رحمتش کنه
-ببخشید..
راننده رو برگرداندو گفت:..من بازهرا زندگی میکنم دخترم..خب کجا برسونمت؟
-یعنی چی؟
-یعنی خسته ام میخوام تو رو یه جائی برسونم و برم خونه تخت بگیرم بخوابم
دختر کیفش را باز کرد و بسته ای سیگار بیرون آورد
-نمی دونم.. بریم از این جا.. دلم شور افتاده..ببین نمیخوای کاری برات انجام بدم؟
-چرا
دختر پوزخندی زد و گفت:هه..هرچی باشه تو هم مردی دیگه ..خب امرتون؟
-اون سیگار رو بنداز دور
و به ماسکش اشاره کرد
-تو که نمی خوای یه راننده تاکسی رو بکشی؟
دختر خند کنان جواب داد:نه..اسمت چیه؟
راننده مکث کرد . به دختر نگاهی انداخت.
-سمیر
-اگه سیگار نکشم میذاری بابا سمیر صدات کنم؟
سمیر لبخند زد.
-باشه
دختر تکانی خورد و شق و رق نشست.
- خب..بابا سمیر ماشینت رو روشن کن بریم خونه تون
-كجا؟
سمیر از ماشین فاصله گرفت.
-خونه دیگه.پیش زهرا
-شوخی ات گرفته؟
-من؟ نه..
سمیر در عقب را بست.
-ببین دختر خانم خونه تون یا هر جائی که زندگی میکنی بگو تا برسونمت
دختر سرش را از پنجره بیرون آورد.
-جائی رو ندارم
سمیر رو برگرداند.
-مشکل من نيست
دختر که تا نیم تنه از پنجره بیرون آمده بود پرسید:پس واسه چی جنگیدی؟
سمیر تکان خورد
- چی؟!
-خر که نیستم.. اون پلاک این ماسکی که زدی سرفه هات قیافه ات زار میزنه... همه ایناواسه چی بود؟
-خب ..
-بگو دیگه
سمیر سر پائین انداخت و به پوتین های گل آلودش خیره شد.
دختر ادامه داد: دینت وطنتت..و مردم .. حالاغیرتت میذاره توی خیابون بمونم؟
سمیر یرگشت و در چشمان دختر نگاه کرد
- اون با اين فرق داره.
-چه فرقی؟ یا هنوزم غیرت داری یا ...میذاری هر بلائی که میخوان سرم بیارن.
به سمیر خیره بود که چشمانش از نم درخشید.
-میذاری بیام ؟ خواهش میکنم.
سمیر رو برگرداند و به آسمان نگاه کرد. به تیرگی ابر ها و دانه های درشت برف.
-دخترت رو به خونه راه میدی بابا سمیر؟تو رو خدا...
سمیر سر تکان داد اما صورتش سرخ شد. همه جا در نوری سرخ فرو رفت اتو مبیل گشت پلیس کنار تاکسی توقف کرد ماموری پیاده شد. سمیر چشمش به مردی افتاد که در اتومبیل پلیس نشسته بود مردی درشت هیکل که کت و شلواری تیره به تن داشت.مردى میانسال با سری باندپیچی شده. سمیر دوباره خم شد و قفل فرمان را برداشت. آن را در دست فشرد و به آسمان نگاه کرد.



والسلام
بیژن کیا/شیراز/6/9/83

I Am Your Spy
by Mordechai Vanunu
I am the clerk, the technician, the mechanic, the driver.
They said, Do this, do that, don't look left or right,
don't read the text. Don't look at the whole machine. You
are only responsible for this one bolt. For this one rubber-stamp.
This is your only concern. Don't bother with what is above you.
Don't try to think for us. Go on, drive. Keep going. On, on.
So they thought, the big ones, the smart ones, the futurologists.
There is nothing to fear. Not to worry.
Everything's ticking just fine.
Our little clerk is a diligent worker. He's a simple mechanic.
He's a little man.
Little men's ears don't hear, their eyes don't see.
We have heads, they don't.
Answer them, said he to himself, said the little man,
the man with a head of his own. Who is in charge? Who knows
where this train is going?
Where is their head? I too have a head.
Why do I see the whole engine,
Why do I see the precipice--
is there a driver on this train?
The clerk driver technician mechanic looked up.
He stepped back and saw -- what a monster.
Can't believe it. Rubbed his eyes and -- yes,
it's there all right. I'm all right. I do see
the monster. I'm part of the system.
I signed this form. Only now I am reading the rest of it.
This bolt is part of a bomb. This bolt is me. How
did I fail to see, and how do the others go on
fitting bolts. Who else knows?
Who has seen? Who has heard? -- The emperor really is naked.
I see him. Why me? It's not for me. It's too big.
Rise and cry out. Rise and tell the people. You can.
I, the bolt, the technician, mechanic? -- Yes, you.
You are the secret agent of the people. You are the eyes of the nation.
Agent-spy, tell us what you've seen. Tell us what the insiders, the clever ones, have hidden from us.
Without you, there is only the precipice. Only catastrophe.
I have no choice. I'm a little man, a citizen, one of the people,
but I'll do what I have to. I've heard the voice of my conscience
and there's nowhere to hide.
The world is small, small for Big Brother.
I'm on your mission. I'm doing my duty. Take it from me.
Come and see for yourselves. Lighten my burden. Stop the train.
Get off the train. The next stop -- nuclear disaster. The next book,
the next machine. No. There is no such thing.
-1987, Ashkelon Prison

A SECOND CHANCE
by Ryan Kingsella
Edited by Stephanie Niezgoda

The sun glaring through the window woke me up. I got out of bed and got dressed. I proceeded into the kitchen where I ate cold cereal for breakfast, just like every morning for the past 3 years. It was time to go to work. I stepped outside and walked at a leisurely pace down Madison Ave. It was the best time of year for my line of work: the summer when all of the tourists came to New York. I got to the city square, and as usual, the very same cliques were there, and in numbers today. 'It looks to be a very good day,' I thought as I smiled to myself. I saw a white man in his late 30's. Guessed he looked kind of lost. 'Perfect,' I thought to myself. 'Time to work.' I calmly and confidently stepped up to the man.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?"

"Yes. I am looking for the Madison Hotel."

"Yes, yes... Oh, okay. Go three blocks down, and take a right. It will be on your left. You can't miss it"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a good day sir."

I walked away with not only a smile on my face, but with the man's wallet in my pocket. I opened it up to see 48 dollars, a Discover, and a MasterCard. A couple of hours and 4 wallets later, I decided to get lunch. So far, I had acquired 6 credit cards, 726 dollars, and several patent leather, hand-made Italian billfolds. I decided to go to my favorite place a little bistro called daVinci's. They have the best pizza. But then, I saw the man. He was about 6 feet tall, with a dark chocolate complexion. He was actually walking in circles - even an amateur could easily recognize that he was lost. Perfect.

I cautiously approached him, like a lion stalking his pray.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?"

"Yes. Do you, by any chance, know where the movie theater is?"

"Ah, yes. No problem. Go down 52nd Ave. and take a left. It'll be right there. You can't miss it."

"Thank you, so much."

"No problem, sir. My pleasure."

I was practically bouncing up the street as I opened up the mans wallet. I found three hundred dollars and three credit cards. I glanced at the name on one of the cards. 'Mr. Johnson,' I thought. 'Thank you very much, Mr. Johnson.' I arrived at the restaurant feeling very good indeed. After my 4-course meal Italian feast, I privately made a toast to Mr. Johnson. 'May he increase his own happiness like he has mine.' I decided I was done for the day, and started on my way home. Little did I know, something was about to happen that would change my life forever. On my way back, I passed through a small alley. As I got to the end of the small alley I saw him, I saw my gracious benefactor. A little white girl had fallen down, and Mr. Johnson was kindly helping her up. The mother saw what was going on, and started to scream and yell for help. The mother started to hit Mr. Johnson with her bag and continued to scream. Mr. Johnson tried to explain to her that he was just trying to help, but she would not listen, and incessantly panicked. A few men heard the noise, and came barreling out of a house carrying a couple of bats. The 3 men, who were all white and each about 5 or 6 feet, started yelling at Mr. Johnson. One of the white men hit Mr. Johnson across the face. They all started punching him and hitting him with the bats. They just would not stop. They kept swearing at him, and spitting on him. I wanted to scream: "Stop! Stop! What are you doing?" But I could not. I just stood there, frozen, and was unable to say anything. He was only trying to help - only trying to help a little girl up off of the street. Then, one of the white men pulled out a knife and proceeded to stab Mr. Johnson several times. Then, the 3 white men ran away, dropping the bats as they ran. There, he was the man I had stole from, laying dead in his own pool of blood - alone in a dark alley. It was unfair I had stole from this man when he was looking for my help, and because of this, he is dead. Then it hit me: I killed him. He probably came looking for me when he was killed. I was responsible. I heard the sirens and I ran. I just ran. I realized that I had not only stole his wallet - I had stolen his life. Tears streamed down my face as I ran. God had given me a second chance to realize what I had done. Yes, God had given me a second chance, and Mr. Johnson had paid for it.

Violence x agaainst xx
(abstract)

"All her married life, Kanaka Thilaka used to hide the bruises on her body with her sari. Early this year, her husband made sure she could not afford even a strand of camouflage. Traumatized by years of physical abuse, Thilaka confronted her husband, saying that if he didn’t stop, she would commit suicide. But her husband mocked her by throwing kerosene on her [and burning her]. Today, she’s barely alive and the scars all over her body cannot be hidden ....‘My future is gone. All that worries me now are my children,’ she whispers."
(Menon, Subhadra, and Stephen David. 7 December 1995. "Brutal Retaliation." India Today.)
Gender-based violence is recognized today as a major issue on the international human rights agenda. Violence affects the lives of millions of women worldwide, This violence includes a wide range of violations of women’s human rights, including trafficking in women and girls ,homicide, psychological abuse, rape, wife abuse, sexual abuse of children, , same-sex violence, elder abuse, sexual assault, date rape, acquaintance rape, marital rape, stranger rape ,economic abuse. and harmful cultural practices and traditions that irreparably damage girls’ and women’s reproductive and sexual health.
Although reliable data on the incidence of gender-based violence are scarce, especially for developing countries, there is an increasing body of knowledge indicating that it is widespread and common. It occurs in a broad context of gender-based discrimination with regard to access to education, resources, and decision-making power in private and public life.
Violence x against xx:
1;cultural pathogen cycle
2;violence against females in private life
3:violence against females against females in public life
key words

1-culture:
a collection ,containing of three sets(values,norms and environment)which made private and public life styles and equilibrates human life.



2-FDR pattern:
culture has a dynamic sysrem which acts as a pattern(formation , deformation and reformation)

3-identity:
to be fix and similar along of time and to be different and unic in across of time.

4-culturo social phenomens:
cultural changes affects human society and human colonies.

a: domestic violence:
1-physical:
2-psychological:
3-economic:
4-social:
5-culturo social:

b:public violence:
1-physical:
2-psychological:
3-economic:
4-social:
5-culturo social:
note:The vast majority of violence against females is perpetrated by males!
(violence x against xx)
Behaviors included in the broad category of violence against women include intimate partner abuse, dating violence The effects of this violence can negatively affect a woman’s reproductive health, as well as other aspects of her physical and mental well-being. Long-term risks include chronic pain, physical disability, drug and alcohol abuse and depression. Women with a history of physical or sexual abuse also have an increased risk for unintended pregnancy, sexually transmitted infections and adverse pregnancy outcomes..
Are some women more at risk for physical assault than others?
Physical assault by someone known to the victim is a leading cause of injury to women. Nearly two million women are assaulted each year in the United States, and more than half of women will be physically assaulted during their lifetime. A large proportion of women (64 percent) reporting rape, physical assault and/or stalking, were victimized by a current or former partner.
Even pregnant women are not immune from physical violence inflicted by partners. Violence directed toward women by their partners during pregnancy affects as many as 324,000 annually.
Does risk for violence against women change with age?
Violence against females can begin as child abuse and continue throughout the lifespan.
Elder abuse, defined as the mistreatment of any person older than age 60 years of age, is quite common. Older females are victimized more often than men. In Illinois, although only 59 percent of the general population older than 60 are women, three of every four elder abuse victims are female. The most common victim of elder abuse is an older woman with a chronic illness or disability; the most common perpetrator is a spouse or another relative living with her. United States data shows that family members are the perpetrators of elder abuse 90 percent of the time. Abusers are adult children (47 percent), spouses (19 percent), other relatives (9 percent) and grandchildren (9 percent). Abusers are more likely to be male, even though the majority of caregivers to older adults are women. Elder abuse is quite clearly a family problem.
Is violence against women all that common?
Estimates of assaults on women by partners range from approximately 2 to 4 million per year. The Illinois State Police recorded 114,373 domestic violence offenses in 2000; 76 percent of these offenses involved assault/ battery charges. A total of 54,640 orders of protection were issued, with 4,574 of these orders being violated. About 25 percent of all hospital emergency department visits by women result from domestic assaults.
How can I support someone who has been physically or sexually assaulted?
• Do not blame the victim, assure her that the assault was not her fault. Questions or comments such as, “How did you get yourself in that situation?,” “Why were you there?,” or “You should have known better,” only blame the victim when the responsibility should be placed on the offender.
• Listen. Often the best way to be of help to the victim is to be there for them as they grieve and sort through what has happened.
• Offer support. Let the victim know that you are available to help them. She may feel better having you accompany her to the police department or clinic, or you may be able to help her cook a meal or take care of children while she obtains legal or medical counsel as she works through her feelings and decides what to do next.
• Respect the victim’s decision. Be educated about the services available to victims of violence and refer victims to professionals. Keep in mind that the victim may not choose the option you might take if you were assaulted. Instead of trying to convince the victim to take a certain path, help her to know her options and respect her decisions while she tries to heal and recover. Everyone copes differently. Remember, the victim is in the best position to decide what option is best for her.
More information about violence against women can be obtained by contacting:
Women and Violence
in all socio-economic and educational classes. It cuts across cultural and religious barriers, impeding the right of women to participate fully in society.
Violence against women takes a dismaying variety of forms, from domestic abuse and rape to child marriages and female circumcision. All are violations of the most fundamental human rights.
In a statement to the Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing in September 1995, the United Nations Secretary-General, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, said that violence against women is a universal problem that must be universally condemned. But he said that the problem continues to grow.
The Secretary-General noted that domestic violence alone is on the increase. Studies in 10 countries, he said, have found that between 17 per cent and 38 per cent of women have suffered physical assaults by a partner.
In the Platform for Action, the core document of the Beijing Conference, Governments declared that "violence against women constitutes a violation of basic human rights and is an obstacle to the achievement of the objectives of equality, development and peace".
Forms of Gender-based Violence and Their Consequences
Effects on Reproductive Health Decision-making
Effects on the Economics of Reproductive Health and Family Planning Service Delivery
Policy Reform Process
In 1993, the World Development Report of the World Bank estimated that "women ages 15 to 44 lose more Discounted Health Years of Life (DHYLs) to rape and domestic violence than to breast cancer, cervical cancer, obstructed labour, heart disease, AIDS, respiratory infections, motor vehicle accidents or war."
Since the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women was adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1979, important progress has been made in establishing gender-based violence as a human rights concern. But much less headway has been made in addressing violence against girls and women as a public health issue. Changes in reproductive health policy-making will be critical to recognizing and addressing the consequences of violence for women’s health.
The ‘Culture of Silence’
Gender-based violence is universal, differing only in scope from one society to the next. Much of this violence is inflicted on girls and women by husbands, fathers, or other male relatives. The home can be one of the most dangerous places for a woman to be.
Domestic violence exists in a "culture of silence" and denial, and of denial of the seriousness of the health consequences of abuse at every level of society. The fact that domestic violence against girls and women has long been considered a "private" affair has contributed to the serious gap in public health policy-making and the lack of appropriate programmes.
Given that gender-based violence is so widespread, the relative lack of policy debate and decision-making about it is remarkable (although there have been some encouraging recent policy statements in several Latin American countries, for instance). Moreover, the health consequences of both physical and psychological violence against women have hardly been touched by the public health sector.
Few studies have been made of gender-based violence, partly because of the lack of accurate definitions, but also because it is so seldom reported to authorities. Women have many reasons for not reporting incidents of violence. Legal authorities often do not take appropriate action. Many women do not know their legal rights. Women have good reason to fear that they will be victimized again, either by insensitive, accusatory questions or by actual assault. It is estimated that more than 60 per cent of rape victims know their attackers. And health care facilities and police seldom consistently record data on violence against women, the sex of the perpetrators, or the relationship of the abuser to the victim.
Defining Gender-based Violence
The issue must be defined before appropriate measures can be taken. The United Nations Declaration on Violence Against Women provides a basis for defining gender-based violence. According to Article 1 of the Declaration, violence against women is to be understood as:
"Any act of gender-based violence that results in, or is likely to result in, physical, sexual or psychological harm or suffering to women, including threats of such acts, coercion or arbitrary deprivations of liberty, whether occurring in public or private life".
Article 2 of the Declaration presents what the international community recognizes as generic forms of violence against women. The definition encompasses (but is not limited to): physical, sexual, and psychological violence occurring in the family and in the community, including battering, sexual abuse of female children, dowry-related violence, marital rape; female genital mutilation and other traditional practices harmful to women; nonspousal violence; violence related to exploitation, sexual harassment, and intimidation at work and in educational institutions; forced pregnancy, forced abortion, and forced sterilization; trafficking in women and forced prostitution; and violence perpetrated or condoned by the state.
Girls and women face systematic discrimination from entrenched power relations that perpetuate the almost universal subordination of females. This leaves them highly vulnerable to being harmed physically, sexually or psychologically by the men in their families and communities.
In developing programmes to address this, the following definition may be helpful:
"Gender-based violence is violence involving men and women, in which the female is usually the victim; and which is derived from unequal power relationships between men and women. Violence is directed specifically against a woman because she is a woman, or affects women disproportionately. It includes, but is not limited to, physical, sexual and psychological harm (including intimidation, suffering, coercion, and/or deprivation of liberty within the family,
or within the general community).
It includes that violence which is perpetrated or condoned by the state".
- (UNFPA Gender Theme Group, 1998)
This definition clearly states the social dimensions and root causes of violence against women and girls. Without this understanding of the issue, there can be no focused and responsive policy and programming efforts to deal with that violence.

سیب های زمین
1
سيب فلزی


بزرگراه از میان بیابانی گرم و بی انتها میگذشت . قرص درشت و ارغوانی خورشید مماس با خط افق چشم ها را خیره کرده بود. اتومبیلی تیره رنگ که با سرعتی بیش از حد تابلوهای هشدار دهنده را پشت سر می گذاشت با فاصله ای اندک از میان دو اتومبیل دیگر گذشت.
دختر جيغ زد.پسر خندید.
دخترفریاد زد : ديوونه شدي؟
پس صداي موسيقي را زياد کرد و جوابداد : از خوشحاليه ...
دختربا هردودست داشبورد را چسبيده بود.
-..بسه ديگه
پسر مي خندید.
- فرار كه نمي كنم .
دختراز پسر رو برگرداند ته لبخندي برچهره اش دیده می شد. عینک آفتابی اش را روی بینی جابجا کرد و به قرص درشت پرتقالی رنگ خیره شد..
پسرمیان موسیقی فریاد زد::بنزين بزنم ميرسونمت ..
دختر لبخندی زد.پسر بازوي دختر را گرفت و فشار داد.اتومبيل وارد محوطه پمپ بنزين شد.
پسر پرسید:درد نداري؟
دخترلبانش را جمع کرد و سر تکان داد: اووم...يه كم ...
-تا بنزين بزنم برو دستشوئي...
دختر پياده مي شد که پسر چند برگ دستمال كاغذي را به او داد .
دختر : زشته جلوي مردم..
پسر: لازمت ميشه.
دختر دستمال را در كيفش گذاشت و رفت.
پسر دور شدن دختر دنبال ميكرد .. دختر پشت ساختمان پيچید. پسر لبخند زد.
اتومبيل براه افتاد و از محوطه دور میشد که طنين کوبش موسيقي تکنو به گوش مي رسید
دختر ولوم صداي ديسك من را زياد كرد. به اطراف نگاهی انداخت .كسي را ندید . متناسب با ضرباهنگ موسيقي سرتكان ميداد. اطراف را دوباره براندازکرد . آن سوی بزرگراه بي خانماني بي وقفه با خودش نجوا ميکرد . زانو زد. بند پوتين مندرسش را محکم بست. انگار كسي را صدا ميزد . بي توجه به عبور و مرور سريع اتومبيل ها در كناره ی بزرگراه با عجله براه افتاد .دختر روی بلوک سیمانی نشست. موبايل دختر پيامي را نشان ميداد(من ايدز داشتم خوشگله). دختر پيام را خواند . سري تكان داد . لبخند زد و پيام فرستاد.(منم همين طور!) به بزرگراه نگاه كرد. نفسي عميق كشید.به اطراف نگاه مي كرد که خندید . قهقهه مي زد . كيف دستي اش را بازکرد چاقوی ضامن داری در آورد در جیب مانتویش گذاشت. كيف رالاقيدانه به روي شانه اش انداخت . كنار بزرگراه براه افتاد .اتومبيلي كمي جلوتر توقف کرد . دختر به طرفش ميرفت که دست بر جیب مانتویش گذاشت.


2
سیب ها ابدی اند
آفتاب در انتهای گورستان غروب میکرد. زن سنگ قبر را شسته بود که پسر گل ها را یکی یکی روی قبر میگذاشت و مرد که پشت سرشان ایستاده بود لبخند زد و به آسمان پر کشید.
*
3
سیب و آتش
بعد از ظهر یک روز زمستانی. پیاده رو. کنار ساختمان دادگستری. عريضه نويس صحبت زن را تايپ میکرد
- نظر به اينكه اكنون مدت دو ماه است كه در منزل پدرم به سر ميبرم و با توجه به موارد ياد شده در دادخواست از جمله ازدواج مجدد شوهرم كه بدون اطلاع من انجام شده ، مستدعي است ضمن موافقت با در خواست جدائي و صدور حكم طلاق دستور فرمائيد نسبت به اعاده حقوق از دست رفته ام اقدامات لازم انجام پذيرد .
مرد دست از تايپ كردن بر داشت. زن گره روسري اش را محكم كرد و گوشه خاك آلود چادرش را تكاند.
مرد پرسید:بچه چطوره؟
زن برگه داد خواست را از دست مرد كشید.
- بهانه بابای نامردش رو ميگيره ...
نگاهي تحقير آميز به مرد انداخت.از جا برخاست كه برود .اما ايستاد .
- تقصیر من نیست..
روبرگرداند و به طرف ساختمان دادگستري دوید.مرد دور شدن زن را نگاه ميكرد.
-حاجي ، عريضه برام مينويسي؟
مرد رو برگرداند زني جوان روبرويش ايستاده بود . مرد خندید دستی به ریش جو گندمی اش کشید و جواب داد:بله..بله..سلام خواهر، شما بفرمائيد . براتون مينويسم.

**
4
سیب و سایه
آن سوی پنجره آسمان ابری بود . گریه طفل که بلند شد زن بی اختیار تکانی خورد.
- بسه دیگه .
مرد میان تقلایش چیزی گفت نامفهوم
- شیر میخواد.
اتاق به لحظه ای روشن شد در برق آسمان و د و باره تاریکی آمد.
- میخوابونمش و میام.
رعد غرید و شیشه ها را تکان داد.گریه طفل بلند تر شد و جیر جیر تخت بیشتر. مرد دندان فشرد و رخوت آلوده خود را کنار کشید. زن طفل را در آغوش داشت که مرد از اتاق بیرون آمد.
-میخوای بری؟
مرد خم شد تا بند کفشهایش را ببندد.
- یه کم پول برات گذاشتم.
زن پرسید: کی برمیگردی؟
مرد در را به هم کوبید و رفت. زن طفل را در آغوش فشرد. بیرون هنوز باران میبارید


5
سيب سرخ آفتاب

صداي رفت و آمد بي وقفه اتومبيل ها شنيده ميشد.
هوا سرد بود. زن و مرد بي توجه به رفت و آمد اتومبيل ها از كناره بزرگراه پيش مي رفتنند .مرد مي لنگید . اوركتي مندرس به تن داشتد و پوتين هائي كهنه به پا.
مرد پرسید:خيلي مونده؟
زن نگاهش ميكردکه مرد لبخندي زد .زن اما تنها نگاهش مي کرد.
- مي رسيم
مردزیر لب گفت : دلم نمي خواد برسيم.
بند پوتين دوباره باز شده بود. مرد زانو زد . زن اما همچنان آرام و سيال پيش مي رفت..
مرد داد زد:هي... صبر كن...
دختری که آن سوی بزرگراه روی سکوئی سیمانی نشسته بود خیره نگاهش میکرد.
زن ايستاد ، خندید و گفت: تو هميشه عقب مي موني.
مرد با عجله بند را گره ميزد که به سمت زن برود. خورشید تا نیمه در خاک فرو رفته بود زن به اطراف نگاه ميكرد که ايستاد و گفت:بريم پائين.
از شيب خاكي حاشيه بزرگراه سرازير شدند . تنها تعدادي بشكه ، زميني سياه از روغن و قير و بقاياي زنگ خورده اتومبيلي در هم شكسته و بوته هاي خار در متن بياباني كهربائي كه در افق به رشته كوهي بنفش مي رسید. زن كنار اسكلت در هم فشرده اتومبيل ايستاد. دستي به پاره آهن زنگ زده كشید
زن: تازه خريده بودمش ، ... گفتم بمونيم گفتي نه .مي خواستي از مجلس عروسي يه راس بري ماه عسل.... ولي خسته بودي. ..
مرد: بايد برميگشتم قرارگاه ، سه روزبيشتر مرخصي نداشتم. دشمن مي خواس پاتك بزنه.اوندفعه كه ديدمت اينجارودوباره گشتم ببين چي پيدا كردم..
سر به زير داشت و عجولانه جيب هاي اوركت را ميكاویدهوا تاريك ميشد که زن آرام آرام در گرگ و ميش رنگ مي باخت .
مرد : ببين اين..عكسو ..
مرد سر برداشت .از آن سوي اندام شفاف زن طرحي مبهم و گنگ از كوههاي تاريك و بنفش نمايان بود .مرد بهت زده وغمگين به او خيره شد. زن محو مي شد که مرد همان جا زانو زد و به عكس خيره شد. عكسي نيم سوخته از آن ها.

بیژن کیا
بازنويسي/شيراز/3/5/83

یاسر یاسر ..احمد

- جواب نميده..
دوباره فریاد زد:تماس بگیر
بی سیم چی که پشت خاکریز مچاله شده بود جواب داد:نمیشه...
- تماس بگیر ..نمی بینی؟ ...
بی سیم چی داد زد:یاسر یاسر ..احمد..یاسر یاسر ..احمد..
با صدای بلند گفت:چن بار بگم؟ ..جواب نمي ده..
در پناه سایه تانکی نیم سوخته پناه گرفت. به بی سیم چی اشاره کرد. خمپاره اي در هوا سوت كشيد.
-دراز بكش..
.بی سیم چی نيم خيز شده بودكه انفجار به زمینش زد.
- يا حسين(ع)..
میان دود و خاک خودش را به بی سیم چی رساند.خون از حفره ای در سینه اش می جوشید و بدنش رعشه ا ی خفیف داشت.
صدائي شنيد..
-...احمد احمد از یاسر.... ..احمد احمد.. یاسر
چند گلوله به بدنه تانک خورد و کمانه کرد.روی زمین دراز کشید. زمین مي لرزيد.ارتعاش شنی تانک هائی که پیش می آمدند ...
-یاسر..یاسر به گوشم..
-.. فرشته ..فرشته هاتون چرا نميان؟
-ان الله مع الصابرین..
فریاد زد:محاصره ایم ..پس چی شد این نیرو...؟
-شنود میشه .. کی اونجاس؟
به اجسادی که همه جا پراکنده بود نگاه کرد.
-اینجا فقط منم با سید و علی و اصغر و موسوی. ..من فرشته میخوام مفهومه ؟..اگه نیان همه چی به هم میریزه....
زمين تكان خورد . چيزي او را به بدنه تانك كوبيد. گردو خاک فضارا پر کرد. بوي دود و باروت . شوري خوني گرم در دهانش . ضرباهنگ ریز برخورد ترکش خمپاره به بدنه تانک.گرد و غبار....آن پائين خودش را دید .. باريكه اي خون از كناره پیيشاني اش میجوشید و روی گونه اش شیار میشد. زانو زده بود ميان آتش و خون . زانو زده بود ميان اجسادي كه خيره نگاهش ميكردند. گوشی بی سیم را به دست گرفت .صدائی گنگ از گوشی شنیده میشد. گوشی را به گوشش چسباند.
-الو..الو..؟چيه؟ چي ميخواي؟..
صدا دخترانه بود.
-یاسر یاسر احمد..یاسر..
- چرا نمیای؟ کجائی تو...؟
-یاسر یاسر ..احمد..کی اونجاس؟
- .. نيم ساعته ا ینجام...یخ کردم بیا دیگه..
- .. فرشته.. فرشته .می خوام
- فرشته کدوم خریه .. یکی دیگه تور کردی؟
-محاصره اس اين جا.. مفهومه؟.. .. دارن ميان..
گردن كشيد و نگاه كرد . شني تانك ها خاك را در هوا پخش ميكرد و سربازان در پناه تانك ها پيش مي آمدند.
- گفتی این کافی شاپ پاتوق بچه مایه داراس.. اینا که از من و تو گدا گودوله ترن که..فقط یکیشون بد نیس .. زانتیا داره گمونم بشه تیغش زد.. می برمش طرف بزرگراه همت..خودتو برسون..
- نامفهومهيكي جلوشون رو بگيره..
- الو؟..گفتم میبرمش بزرگراه شهید همت..
برق سر نيزه عراقي ها را مي ديد .
- همت شهید شده؟ ..کی؟ ..
- الو؟. کی هستی تو؟..
- سید علی اصغر موسوی
- بی مزه .. از کجا منو دید میزنی؟ داشت باورم می شد عوضی زنگ زدی.. ..من اینجام ..سر کوچه شهید سید علی اصغر موسوی..موتورت رو آتیش کن توی بزرگراه پسره رو تیغش میزنیم..شارژباطری موبایلم داره تموم میشه ..بای..
- یاسر یاسر احمد..یاسر یاسر ..احمد ..جواب بدین.. تنها موندم....محاصره ايم..یاسر یاسر ..احمد ..کسی نمونده.. دارن میرسن .جواب بده ..
سربازان دشمن از خاکریز سرازیر شدند. دوره اش کردند. آن پائين خودش را ميديد كه هنوز گوشی را رها نکرده بود... سيم گوشي پاره شده بود .. و كسي مرتب تكرار ميكرد:
-دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است...the mobile set is off))
-دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است...the mobile set is off))
-دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است...the mobile set is off))


والسلام
بیژن کیا/ شیراز/23/9/83

والنتاین+2

هنوز هم همانجا نشسته بود.همان میز همیشگی. کنار پنجره.دنج ترین نقطه ی کافی شاپ.
- سفارش میدین؟
یک ساعت قبل ، به منو نگاهی انداخته بود .
- فعلا" یه میلک شیک ..
چهل و پنج دقیقه قبل با تلفن همراهش شماره گرفته بود.
- دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است.. the mobile set is off
- دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است..the mobile set is off
- دستگاه مشترک مورد نظر خاموش است.. the mobile set is off
نیم ساعت پیش با دیدن دختری بی اختیار نیم خیز شده بود اما نگاه سرد دختر اشتباه او را بزرگ تر جلوه داد. دوازده دقیقه قبل پنجره را کمی باز کرده بود. آن پائین خیابان به تاریکروشنای غروب تن میداد .دوباره به ساعتش نگاه کرد.چشم چرخاند و به آن پیشخدمت خوش اخلاق اشاره کرد.
- بله؟
- صورتحساب..
اسکناس ها را روی میز گذاشت. دسته گل را برداشت . از پله ها پائین رفت و قدم به خیابان گذاشت.نیم ساعت بعد مرد اتومبیلش را در همان جای همیشگی پارک میکند . وارد آسانسور میشود.دکمه ی طبقه ی شش را میزند .همان موسیقی همیشگی را میشنود . خودش را در آئینه برانداز میکند .سر تکان میدهد. آه میکشد. اخم میکند. لبخند میزد و شکلک در می آورد.چند دقیقه بعد از آسانسور بیرون می آید . مقابل واحد 17می ایستد . نفسی عمیق میکشد و زنگ میزند. کمی بعد در باز میشود. زنی در را باز میکند.
-سلام
- سلام
بیا ان مال شماس..
دسته گل را به زن میدهد.
- به چه مناسبتی؟
- همین جوری..
- ممنون..خیلی قشنگن
زن لبخند میزند . مرد به درون میرود و در راپشت سر خود میبندد.

سارا كوچولو از سفر با هواپيما مي ترسيد .

سارا يه خواب وحشتناك ديده بود اما مامان ميگفت خونه ي بابا بزرگ خيلي دوره.
سارا به مامان گفته بود:خب ميشه با اتوبوس بريم يا با قطار
مامان گفت: دير ميشه بابابزرگ خيلي مريضه بايد زودتر بريم وگرنه..
مامان هيچوقت جمله رو تموم نكرد . چون زد ه بود زير گريه.
توي هواپيما وقتي مامان كمربند صندلي سارا رو مي بست . سارا زد زير گريه .مهماندار لبخندي زد. با سار ا صحبت كرد و گفت: هر وقت ترسيدي چشماتو ببند و خودتو در جائي تصور كن كه دوست داري.
سارا چشماشو بست. حالا توي اتاق خودش بود و داشت با عروسكاش بازي ميكرد.خرس پشمالو،خرگوش صورتي،باربي و يه عروسك بي قواره كه سارا "آقاي ايك" صداش ميكرد.
آقاي ايك پرسيد: چرا ناراحتي ؟
- مامان ميخواد بره سفر.منو هم با خودش مي بره.
پشمالو گفت: سفر كه خيلي خوبه
- آخه ميترسم
باربي خنديد و گفت: خب مارو با خودت ببر
- نميشه.. مامان گفته اونجا نميشه عروسك بازي كنم فقط ميتونم يكي تون رو ببرم
خرگوش صورتي گفت: منو با خودت ببر منو كوك كن تا برات طبل بزنم.
باربي گفت : نه منو ببر ميتوني با من بازي كني تازه ميتوني به بقيه ي بچه ها پز بدي تا حسابي حسوديشون بشه
خرس پشمالو گفت: منو ببر ميتوني شبا منو بغل كني و راحت بخوابي
آقاي ايك گفت:منو با خودت ميبري؟
عروسكها همه خنديدند آخه آقاي ايك نه مثل باربي خوشگل بود ، نه مثل آقاخرسه پشمالو بود و نه حتي ميتونست مثل خرگوش صورتي طبل بزنه.
آقاي ايك گفت:من هيچوقت تنهات نمي ذارم
- حالا ميتوني چشماتو باز كني
سارا چشماشو باز كرد . مهماندار خنديد.
سارا پرسيد:كجائيم؟
مهماندار جواب داد:نزديك ابرها..ديدي ترس نداشت..عروسكت هم كه مثل خودت خوشگله
سارا لبخند زد. مهماندار پرسيد : چيزي ميخوري؟
سارا سر تكون داد يعني كه نه..
نيم ساعت بعد هواپيما از ميون ابراي سياه گذشت. مامان داشت يواشكي شماره ميگرفت.
-چرا كسي جواب نمي ده؟
دوباره شماره گرفت ولي مهماندار متوجه شد و به مامان گفت:تلفن همراهتون رو خاموش كنين
مامان گفت:آخه خيلي ضروريه..
مهماندار گفت:سيستم ناوبري دچار مشكل ميشه ..خواهش ميكنم خاموشش كنين
هواپيما به سختي تكان خورد .
مامان پرسيد: چي شده؟
مهماندار جواب داد:چيزي نيس ارتفاع رو كم مي كنيم تا فرود بيايم .
سارا جيغ كشيد. هواپيما بازم تكون خورد . سارا چشماشو بست .حالا پدر بزرگ دست هايش را باز كرده بود تا سارا را در آغوش بگيريد.
- پدر بزرگ!
پدر بزرگ پيشاني سارا را بوسيد.
سارا پرسيد:شما حالتون خوبه ؟
پدر بزگ جواب داد:بله
سارا دوباره پرسيد:ولي شما كه مريض بودين . مگه نه؟
پدر بزرگ با صداي بلند خنديد و گفت:حالا كه نيستم
سارا پرسيد:مامانم كجاس ؟
پدربزرگ گفت:اونم مياد نگران نباش
سارا به اطراف نگاه كرد . همه جا قشنگ بود . درختان بلند با برگ هاي درخشان ،پرنده هاي رنگارنگ با پر هاي بلند و درياچه اي بزرگ با موج هاي كوچك و آبي رنگ . سارا به آسمان نگاه كرد خورشيد را نديد ولي همه جا روشن بود.
سار ا به پدر بزرگ گفت:اينجا چقدر خوشگله...
پدر بزرگ خنديد و سر تكان داد.
سارا پرسيد: من چرا اينجام ؟
پدر بزرگ جواب داد:تو اون پائين بودي ميخواي ببيني؟برو كنار درياچه..
سارا از روي ماسه هاي طلائي رد شد و به درياچه رسيد. خم شد و به آب نگاه كرد زير آب ابرها را ديد و چراغ هاي شهر و بعد هم شعله هاي آتش. هواپيمائي در حال سوختن بود و مامورين آتش نشاني تلاش مي كردند تا آتش را خاموش كننند.
- چيزي ميبيني؟
- نه دود زياده .. ولي آتيش كنترل شده ..
يكي از آتش نشان ها وارد هواپيما شده بود و با بي سيم گزارش ميداد.
- هي..هي.. يه دختر بچه اينجاس
- زنده اس؟
پدر بزگ پرسيد:دوست داري اينجا بموني؟
- آره
آتش نشان به دختر كوچولو نگاه كرد.
- نه . كسي زنده نمونده
سارا به پدر بزرگ رو كرد و گفت: دلم براي عروسكام تنگ ميشه
پدربزرگ گفت:ببين كي اينجاس
- آقاي ايك؟
پدر بزرگ لبخند زد و گفت:وقتي از خونه رفتي انقدر گريه كرد تا دگمه هاي چشمش كنده شدن اونوقت فرشته ها آقاي ايك رو آوردن اينجا ..چون خيلي دوستت داره
مامور آتش نشاني پيكر سارا را از صندلي برداشت . سارا عروسكي در بغل داشت . آقاي ايك.
- حالا ميتوني چشماتو باز كني
سارا چشماشو باز كرد . مهماندار خنديد.
سارا پرسيد:كجائيم؟
مهماندار به سارا چشمكي زد و گفت: رسيديم..حالا ميتوني پدر بزرگت رو ببيني . پرواز چطور بود؟
سارا گفت: من ديگه از سفر با هواپيما نميترسم.
بيژن كيا
شيراز2/5/84

وقايع نگاري يك اتفاق ساده
1
مردي درحين رانندگي با موبايل صحبت مي كند
- الو..
چي شد؟... آماده س؟
- مگه نمياي اداره؟
برگشته؟
-.. ..اگه درست نكردي نيا اداره
-نه .. من جلسه دارم بعدش هم ميرم خونه
تو چيكار داري؟
سر راه بگير
اگه اضافه كاري و پاداشت قطع شد گله نكني ..
213...بجنب ديگه
-كي بود بابا؟
مرد به پسر خردسالش نگاه ميكند و بي آن كه چيزي بگويد لبخند ميزند.
2
زن كه خود را در حوله اي آبي رنگ پيچيده كيف دستي رنگ و رو رفته اي را مي كاود و موبايل را پيدا مي كند . كسي در حمام آواز مي خواند . زن لبه ي تخت مي نشيند دخترك خردسال سرش را از زير لحاف بيرون مي آورد مادر پشت به او دارد .
-سلام ..
- نشد ..مي خواستم صبح زود درست كنم،خواب موندم
-چرا .مهران خونه اس
- آره..ديروز عصر
-.. بعد از اداره بريم بيرون بهتر نيس؟
-قرار داري؟
-..جلوي اون كه نمي تونستم كيك درس كنم ...
- ..تولدت هم مبارك.. خب نتونستم..
- خب ميگيرم ..كدوم اتاق؟
خب ..اومدم
لحظه اي مكث ميكند
-.كثافت حشري
مي خواهد موبايل را در كيف بگذارد كه متوجه ي دختر مي شود.
- ا..كي بيدار شدي؟
- - كي بود مامان
- هيچي رئيسم بود
دختر همچنان مادر را نگاه ميكند.

والسلام
بيژن كيا
شيراز- دوشنبه 11/7/84