The Music and the Spirit By Zaheda Ghani Oct-Dec 1998 Lemar-Aftaab The notes bounce off her navel. Right at the center of her being, in her core, every beat has it's twin echo. They make immortal music together. She lies on her bed. The bed sits beneath a large window. On the second story, in her room. Her eyes are closed. She remembers. He sat on the couch in the lounge room. He tapped his foot to the same music which is penetrating her soul right now. He tapped softly. She watched him from the next room through the crack in the door. It was ajar. Slightly open; her to love him without getting caught. She is remembering. Momentarily the recollections disappear. No longer moving pictures. The images stop for her to feel the warmth of the sunshine. The curtain is pulled apart, radiant light oozes from it's womb. It beats down on her stomach. She can sense it on her tender flesh. Plump tender flesh she doesn't usually like, but right now it's the most beautiful part of her body. She can feel the heat of the sun. Her skin glistening with moist beads of sweat. Each bead forms like a tear, rolling off the side of her belly. She thinks of him again. The music continues. Over and over the same song. His song. His memories. His tapping. She taps on her stomach, a gentle sensual motion, in unison to his rhythm. He is alive within her; she sees him move and feels his happiness. Recalls his smile, his mouth, his nose, his lips, and his eyes. She cries. Her eyes remain closed. The song ends. 'I know you can feel me' her mind whispers. She lets him withdraw from her mind, her soul, her senses and her life. Other works by Zaheda Ghani: My Journey and My Prayer(July-Sept 98) Fragmentations(July-Sept 98) in a tiny black box (April-June 98) Afghanistan... (April-June 98) Zaheda Ghani is a member of the Association of Afghan Writers (AAW). Copyright © 1998 Aftaabzad Publications. All Rights Reserved. May not be duplicated or distributed in any form without permission.