Free Laziness in the Fertile Valley by Albert Cossery

the same time, defended himself from it with a disdainful carelessness. He had seen so many things, met so many men, Serag promised himself, if he saw him again, to ask his advice about how he could live a fierce and passionate existence. His competence in the matter would be a great help.
    He got out of bed, walked toward the closet and opened it. He took out his red woollen sweater, his football shoes, and began to dress.
    “You’re going out?”
    The door had just opened; Serag turned, saw Hoda, and became provoked. The young girl gently closed the door and walked into the room on tiptoe. She repeated, in a whisper:
    “Are you going out?’
    “Yes, I’m going out,” said Serag.
    “Wait for me,” said Hoda. “I’ll finish the dishes and we can go out together.”
    “That’s impossible,” said Serag. “I have some urgent business; I can’t wait.”
    “That’s not true,” said Hoda. “The truth is you don’t want me to go. You don’t love me.”
    She spoke in a childish voice, full of naïve reproach that moved Serag and troubled him. Her love for him was a hindrance to his projects for escape and an active life. He was angry for letting himself be affected by this amorous and obstinate little girl. It was a weakness worse than sleep that he couldn’t bear to see her suffer. He said, with a profound gentleness:
    “But I do love you, you know it well. Only I haven’t time. I have to go out right now.”
    She became sad and pouted; she didn’t believe him. She knew be had no urgent business, that it was only his desire to roam that took him outside.
    “You ought to sleep,” she said.
    “I’ve slept enough. I have to go out. Don’t you understand?”
    “What are you going to do outside? I’m afraid for you when you’re outside.”
    “You’re only a little girl. Why should you be afraid? All men don’t stay inside and sleep. You don’t know anything about life.”
    “But you’re not like other men,” she said. “I’m afraid for you.”
    “You’re crazy! What could happen to me? Do you know, Hoda, there are countries where men get up at four in the morning to work in the mines?”
    “That’s another of your inventions.”
    “No it isn’t. Rafik told me.”
    “It isn’t true,” said Hoda, “He was lying.”
    “Do you think so?” said Serag. “Anyhow, it’s very difficult. I tried and couldn’t do it.”
    “You tried to get up at four in the morning? What for? There aren’t any mines around here.”
    “No, but Rafik said there would be soon. Anyhow, I have to train myself.”
    “Hush,” said Hoda. “You really frighten me. Won’t you wait for me?”
    She had a little girl’s stubborn attachment for him — a sort of vicious and troubled love. For him she accepted the vexations of her situation; thinking of him, she submitted to all the outrages and insults. She knew he wanted to leave the house, and she didn’t know how to stop him. If he would take her with him, she would leave gladly.
    She came over to Serag, pressed herself against him, and put her arms around him. He was tall so she had to raise her head to look at him. She looked supplicating and tender. Serag couldn’t help smiling at her.
    “Kiss me,” she said.
    “I haven’t time. I have to go, I tell you. And I don’t want to tire myself, I’ve a long walk ahead of me.”
    She held him more closely.
    “Kiss me,” she begged.
    Serag put his arms around her neck and began to kiss her mouth. He felt her tremble, and knew he couldn’t get away until he had made love to her. He loosened his embrace and sat on the bed. Hoda joined him, rubbed herself against him coaxingly, her eyes brilliant with a malicious light. She turned on her back and waited, submissive, for the approach of pleasure. She was smiling vaguely, her eyelids lowered, her face taut with expectation. A long moment she remained inert, not daring to move. Serag raised her dress, uncovering her slender brown legs. Hoda looked at Serag, then