Here I am writing for the last time just to keep a promise I made. If I ever write again, I will make sure to use a double-edged blade!

In this grassy playground, we moved with no other language among us but our body language.

Actions... movements... positioning... undeclared cunningness... incessant kinetic incursions... incessant search for breakthroughs... highly intricate body manoeuvres to create new gaps... a wild and pure body language which is more like a double-edged blade cutting through flesh and bones!

"Our Father" had always dreamt of me becoming a highly-decorated officer. As to my mother, for many days she slept next to me, enumerating the many merits of becoming a doctor once she had finished telling the ogress story at bedtime, and, after I dose off, I dream of a stethoscope and wake up to the smell of Novalgin.

My older brother - who is way older than me - never stopped inculcating me the essence of his dark brown library. Oh, boy! The number of vocabularies in his room! I imagined them coming out from under the door of his room at the time of siesta after he has parked his white Peugeot under the Christ's-thorn of Abu Hamad, our frivolous neighbor whose thick moustache had a white line that was more like a forgotten snot line. With that moustache of him moving licentiously, he cursed us before snatching our ball open with one stroke when, by pure chance, it happened to drop it into his yard.

Saad, my brother, was filling my head with his books and convictions without telling the rest of our family of his secret dream of turning me into a culturally influential person in a society that was fast running towards its end without achieving any sort of dreamt-of change! ... This dream stood in sharp contrast to our dad's dream of many stars decorating my shoulders and allowing me to maintain the security for which my father prays... and any father for that matter!

Saad, my brother, was filling my head with his books and convictions without telling the rest of our family of his secret dream of turning me into a culturally influential person in a society that was fast running towards its end without achieving any sort of dreamt-of change! ... This dream stood in sharp contrast to our dad's dream of many stars decorating my shoulders and allowing me to maintain the security for which my father prays... and any father for that matter!

My youngest sister, Haya, was the main reason why we no longer could have any other siblings younger than her, since doctors had to perform a hysterectomy on my mother right after extracting my sister from her womb, often I wished I could be a typical dependable, kind, and always present brother, regardless of any skills that I might use to achieve any personal goals of my own.

I cannot deny that I loved them all, and I certainly wanted to satisfy them. However, I was only that boy who was trained to roll the ball in the neighbourhood alleys with such physical acumen that was nothing like our father's military dream, my mother's humanitarian dream, my brother's deferred intellectual victories, or my sister's affection which was totally devoid of any facts of loss and victory... For the sake of my left foot, my only strength, I gave up all their dreams.