You cough and splutter but fortunately you did not inhale enough of the powder for it to have any affect. You curse the woman and then wander off, walking aimlessly. Soon your feet begin to take you back to familiar territory, the Wakala of Al Khalili.
This is the Caravanserai where you did much of your trading and built your immense wealth. You have fond memories of this grand building. It was here you met with exotic merchants from the distant corners of the world, making gifts of lavish jewels and supple concubines to firm trade agreements. You recall the luxuriant marble fountain in the central courtyard where you haggled deals to the cries of scantily clad slave girls mock wrestling in the chilly water. It was over sumptuous banquets of steaming fuul, kufta, kebab, fiteer and kushari that you would ponder the finer point of a contract, all the while limber courtesans dancing enticingly at your whim. It was here that you lazed about, sucking on spicy nargilahs, drinking sweet rose shay and playing backgammon, fanned with peacock feathers by half naked slave girls. You smile at the memory of the Caravanserai’s rich bedchamber walls, lined with extravagant Ottomans to muffle the hedonistic cries of its curvaceous ladies of pleasure.
Copyright 2000 - 2025 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.37 seconds at 12:14am on Oct 27, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author