Koukh Al Shayateen | Mohamed Al Habsi

His eyes were fixed on the third door, the door through which Afraa entered the first day in a robe of shame, and exited the last day in a robe of term. Here she chatted with him most of the time, here she was angry with him, and here the rivers of their love returned to their fresh streams. His hand hesitated to touch the doorknob, not wanting to change the images before his eyes. He did not want to see that bed on which the pure breath of Afraa came out.