THE FEAR, by Leila Samarrai

By Leila Samarai

Healthy urban man, one of the numerous tenants of the New Building, decided to lose a certain number of kilograms, for it was known that in the newer buildings there was only a certain number of kilograms allowed per floor. The calculator was deciding the correlation with height, to prevent occurrences of dislocation, deviation, turning into men-frogs or spider crabs.

The calculator was clearly showing that he needs to lose 5 kilograms, 2 grams and 10 milligrams. But, in order to lose that alarming number it was necessary to leave the New Building every night exactly at nine o’clock and run the route of five of stations of the forty-two bus then stop in the street which leads to the station of the bus number fifty-nine.

All of these numbers made sense, especially for Pythagoras.

Just as he left the building, Healthy urban man realized that the New Building, even though overpopulated, is flawlessly clean. After he thought about it he realized that he saw the tenants, who lived peaceful and quiet lives, very rarely, except in front of the buildings entry, while they were unlocking the door and after that disappearing down the ghastly empty hallway into unknown directions.

He thought about all of this, Healthy urban man, while he was returning from his jog and unlocking the entry door of the building. The light turned on automatically, welcoming him.

“My life is perfect,” he thought. “Everything slides like down the light…” this one thought, like well-oiled, while caressing the key and gently tracing the lettering on the metal relief.

“Permil by permil.” He thought while climbing step by step.
“Permil then a stair, a stair then the door, key then lock.” he was thinking while inserting the key into the lock.

Then, however, something unexpected happened. He shivered, while his hands shook from fear. The key was stubbornly refusing to open the lock. He was agonized, he tried and tried and finally realized he will have to ask help from his neighbors. He checked the display of his cell-phone. “No, it is far too late.” Besides, they will think he is crazy. They will cuss at him, perhaps even hit him. With fear he looked into the spyhole on the next door.

He was relieved after seeing the number 9.

“That means, that means I’m healthy. “he thought . “And that I merely wandered off in my thoughts, missed my floor. Ha ha ha ,” he laughed with relief. “I was just confused.”
But his brain worked and steamed with a speed of the comet which whipped the dinosaurs: “It looks like I was trying to break in into an apartment. By mistake, ofcourse, but they can accuse me in court. They can move me into the Old Building, with those misfortunates, the hunchbacks of the Silicon valley.” He turned around and smiled like a lucky thief.
When he entered the lucky apartment 13, he went to bed, content.

A few days later, in the apartment number 8, a corpse was found, of an old lady, standing upright. She lived alone, without any kin. It was told that she did not leave her apartment for years , nor received any visitors. Maybe she escaped the Old Buildings and was by mistake given an apartment in the Newbuild. Her stiff mouth was forming the letter ‘O’, as though she is calling someone for help. She was gripping the lock, like she was fighting someone from the other side of the door, a burglar most probably. That is how she died. From fear.


NUMBER, Leila Samarrai


In the beginning there was a number and it created harmony
Compacted into 10 heavenly veins.

To him the music – owes.
To him – love owes.
To him – the truth owes.
Beauty? Yes!
Each idol in the head– to him the Holy owes.

The Number feeds the Ethiopian children with monads in the midst of Green Africa
Cele-kula (this you must have known!) is built of Numbers,
It is rolled by children down elysian fields of the Righteous

Number rules as well over the body of Osiris,
The Number testified about remaining loaves
On the bodies of hunchbacks and the poor
Which like dark figures of Calais await the whirlwind of Justice
To banish them from the asylum of Doubt.

Number knows of tomorrows and of yesterdays
Number knows who you are, and who am I.

The Number traverses the army of armies of Amen of Libya
While the sheep bleat and search for wolves.

The army hesitates
And swimmers hesitate
Оh, my geometric sea.


О, Pythagorean triad, show yourself!
Who are you?
What are you?
Have you impoverished for us?
Have you thrown away all your mo – Hopes?


I came to you as a golden calf and you did not recognize me!
There would be no Hymns of the Nile without – Number,
The Colossus of Rhodes would not be without– Number,
Spartacus, yet him, Liberal, not without the – number!

A number, it is the bald, mad poets
And cotter bolts!
Silly, mad, those crazier, the craziest and… Preludes!

Number – arose from Earth for Saturn.
Fell from heavens for Thoth.


Take us to the Grand Cut – to tailor holy dresses the day before the Holy day:
For emperors, and their wet nurses
Once again for wet nurses
For shahs , patricians,
Eagles of gold, aghas, tarragons
And other Proposers?

Number – it is harmony, king and cage for verses.
Even some Jacobite is a Number – scarecrow for the Girondist.
And pipsqueak, of course, Antic C. Ма(n)sоn from feces of the Greek revolution.

Number, those are all beginnings
And causes
The golden section of time in caves
With Metempsychosis.

Number, those are all rejected kisses,
Number – measure of doubtfulness and laughter of the insane paladin,
A tucked in courtesan.

Go to the temple of Eros so they shoot an arrow to your chest.
Let all Lunacies fall in love with you
And lunacy enamored to create itself anew within you

And crazy Eros will look at you
Will take out the heart from the womb of the ideal Semele
Shot, walk down the shores of the Peruvian sea
That is how freedom from the Number is deceitfully summed!

Do not envision the Number divided (do not even think about a fraction)
Remember the ten, with a laugh.

That is how Pythagoras counted as well
Counted all the way to ten

Ten shoes
And ten shores
And ten dreams
And ten bridges
And ten lunatics

– Pythagoras finishes;
Forbidden to dip horse bean into the number.

I am Etalides and I have been in… in… plants.
I am Pyrrhus and I sojourned inside the rotten womb of gluttonous emperors.
I am Euphorb and I blinded Homer
Because into the Number much like the Sun you cannot gaze long.

I murdered Achilles,
Tarried within Paris,
I cannot claim I have not within you as well.

And the divers keenly look for him,
Beneath the surface are the sunken ships

Carcasses of Hyperborea
Colonnade of martyrs
Silenced witnesses.

„The Number, those are all heavens” – calculated Pythagoras
and discovered the golden thigh in the Theater.