The Flaying (short story)

Finally, I was able to obtain an appointment with an official from the Department of Employment. I knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for the permission to enter.

I stepped towards him with a few steps, steps that I tried to make sturdy, but I failed, though I managed to put on a pale smile.
He pointed towards a chair in front of him. I bowed before I sat down. On the glass surface of his office I placed a green envelope that contains a set of documents that will speak on my behalf.

He opened the envelope and browsed through the papers with skilled, hairy and big white fingers, then close the envelope and puckered his lips. Through his medical eyeglasses he glanced at me with looks that had no meaning, or possibly they had meaning but I wasn’t certain what they meant.
He smiled and said: “are you lucky?”

I was sitting silently the whole time. His question drowned me more in my silence. The silence wasn’t fear from him or wisdom from my side; rather it’s Convinced of the futility of speech.

I was stunned completely by his question; I couldn’t find any expression to respond or to figure out what was the hidden message behind the question!
He repeated his question in different wording: “ Do you see yourself as one of those who posses good fortune?”

How do I know!
Most of those and whom we call fortunate people in the World do not need luck to be so.
What I feel now it gives me the privilege and status of “Misfortunate” and unchallenged, I won the title “ The chief of the misfortunate people”

I’m an unlucky man.
I need a little bit of success.

Two answers attended my mind at that instant to respond to his question. The first impulsive answer came to my mind was: “If I’m a lucky man, will I be here now! And facing you! And of course I didn’t dare to say it. In stead I said, “I think I see myself as those who are fortunate.
I intended by this response to deal with his thoughts in contrive to gain his confidence ...


All institutions are striving in a quest of success and wishing seriously that all their staff would be lucky and successful in providing high-quality service to the work they are doing.

“I think I see myself as those who are fortunate.” I said,
His instant answer was, “That not good enough! I have to be certain and place that into practice right away!
Moment of silence, he examined me with his eyes, then said;
-“ Do you have money?”
“Pardon me!”
“A few dirhams?”
“ I have some.”
“ Then go to the nearest shop and buy a scratch and win card and come back quickly, you will find me here waiting for you!” He added affirmatively, “ Make sure it is a scratchy card”.

At this moment, the human vulnerabilities took a grasp over my mind and my entire being. Although I astonished by his request, I didn’t find any way out only to comply with his command.
I rushed to the nearest shop, the kind that sells cigarettes, different kind of chewing gum, candies, chocolates, stamps and of course lottery cards and of the type of scratch and win.
Many times I came across those cards and noticed many people were buying it but I paid little attention to it, as a matter of fact I was censuring it.

I returned back running,
The sweat poured out from my forehead and my under armpits. I worried the sweat would turn to bad odour and could be smelly. I sniffed under my arm. The odour was at the beginning of its formation. I speculated the meeting wont take longer and the odour wont dare to declare it self and be noticeably smell unless I’m out in the street or somewhere in an open space.

Without knocking on the door, I pushed it and entered. I placed in front of him a small scratch card decorated with some stripes, pictures and coral colors.
As I was sitting I noticed he was avoiding looking at the card, as if he was afraid of harm that might be caused by the card and befall on him, or visa versa.
He handed me a piece of silver coin, and asked to scratch the gray stripe in the middle of the card. I wasn’t surprised by his command, since I know the card has to be scratched.

He watched me while I was scratching. All of a sudden I wondered what if this is his way to test my abilities and skills! Scratching the card might be one way to test whether I will be successful person or a failure in doing my job! Without thinking twice about all the possibilities of any answers that might spur from my thoughts, carefully I started scratching the card. I created my own unique way in doing that, with an easy touch not rough or hard, first I stared with the corners then the top of the card, then the bottom, and before I carried out the last scratch, I drew thin lines in the middle forming what it look like a triangle, and with one accurate and exact stroke I removed the gray surface of the card and revealed all the figures beneath it!

At this moment in time I did not know exactly how I felt the urge of scratching my scalp.
Suddenly I felt strong burning sensation to scratch my entire body, which started to itch, it felt like a devouring crime violated me. Like an army of ants conquered and bitten me from my head to my toes.
I did not pay any attention to the numbers that started to be clear and obvious. The fierce desire of the itch and the scratch hampered my thoughts, and I never bothered to think about the outcomes results of this meeting either.

He looked at the card in front of him, when he saw the figures, his eyes widened, his face turned red and yellow, then he opened his mouth in disbelief, with difficulty he swallowed his saliva exposing the feelings which were caused by the figures within him. However, immediately with a quick calm and fake wise manner he hid his astonishment; in the meantime I was resisting but I found enjoyment and console in scratching.

With expert well-trained hands that show his skills, he put the card in his office drawer. And said, “Lucky, you are lucky. I mean… we will take in our considerations your file in our next meeting at this evening!”
He extended his hand saying goodbye, I extended one hand while the other one was busy scratching.
He pressed his strong fingers against my fingers it was hurting pressure but the ache of the devouring which I was facing was more painful.

I exited his office. In the street, I walked on the sidewalk. My brain filled with white emptiness.

In split second as if it was a sparkle of lightning, and in the heedlessness of the consciousness that connected me with the reality, it seemed to me this scratching which reached its crucial peak by then was skinning the supple layer of my skin and replacing it by figures