I’ve been here for five hundred years, she said in a whisper. I lay next to her, put my ear to her lips. Are you a vampire now? Yes, she said. Inconvenient, I said. How will you survive all this sun we get here in Dubai? She pressed her teeth on my arm, leaving a sizable bite mark on the skin. I’m hungry, she said and I pushed her away and ran to my room…

The witch introduces herself as Umm Balqis but you are skeptical about whether the woman standing in front of you could ever have been a mother. A beast, bone thin, taller than most men, with thick black kohl in her eyes and faint green tattoo dots on her chin.

A pale evening sun seeps in and bathes his aching body as he reaches out for the glass of lukewarm water his beloved Mala has left by his bedside. His throat feels raw from all those primal grunts and groans and his arms are heavy as if clad in cold iron chains. He lifts himself into the costume, musty shreds of a t-shirt and jeans bleached under the skylight then streaked artfully in red ink. He moves slowly, pours himself in, lets his mouth hang open then runs his tongue over his cracked bleeding lips…

Ummi wants you to look your best. She's rented the habit from a professional costume store and even bought you the sheer black tights from the French lingerie shop you still blush to go inside…