Jabal

The veranda had devolved from my favorite place to everyone's lounge spot. It was disgusting. I hated Gibraltar, and now there wasn't even a place where I could hate Gibraltar less. My misquito net canopied more than me now, and the view of Calpe from it was obstructed by silhouettes of strangers. I experimented with various angles, but the conglomoration of socialites was unbearably dense. I had to leave. I guess I shouldn't have expected less than a swarm with my father's recent promotion. I faked a swoon. No one clamored. It was safe to escape, so I rallied my monkey to me and left. We went to my mother's boudoir, it was being cleaned by Tara. She was a Morroccan muslim with the most beautiful teeth I had ever seen. They were her orderly row of white children. Mine on the other hand were a rag-tag bunch of orphaned Morroccans, all bouncing to get fed first. She smiled and that made me sigh. Monkey and I walked outside, the Calpe to our right. It was almost Gibraltar's redemption. Mons Calpe, the Pillar of Hercules, the Rock of Gibraltar, was a monolith in the Mediterranean Sea. Apparently, it's phallic shape made all of the sisters from Loreto Convent make the sign of the cross every time it sullied their visions. I honestly didn't see the phallus in it; if I were a nun, I would admire it guiltlessly and imagine a different romantic story every time. Today, it looked more like a laying beast than anything - a stone guard set there by Hercules to protect Gibraltar. Though if I were a nun, thinking of romantic stories all of the time would certainly crack whatever saintly resolve had led me to take my vows. The cobblestones were hot and I stuttered down to the coast, Monkey following. The sand offered little variation - it scalded my feet like the road. I ran to meet the waves, tried to embrace them but they receded again. Monkey didn't get wet. My feet steamed, almost, and I was glad to have found another place where I could hate Gibraltar less. "Jabal!" I challenged the mountain. "Jabal! I will seize you, Jabal Tariq! You Rock of Tariq, you Herculean pillar!" I embraced the Rock on the horizon: another intangible hug. My hands clasped oppisite arms and I pulled them away. They ended up in the water after such an imbalanced effort. I lay there until Monkey circumspectly tapped me with his tail and clapped and clicked a bit. He sat in the barely dry sand, evading waves and their dampness by milimeters. I fell asleep.