Hajif and Maufouz knocked on the door of my chest and asked for entry, assuming they would be granted their request, because of thier twinned lung shape, however diminuitive. They stated their purpose as karmic. They are here for payment. I have always known they would come, so it is no surprise, even though they are small, white beans that rest nicely in the cup of my hand. They were men in thier former lives, subject to the whims of the gods, but in this life, they act as intermediaries. Their mouths are full of sand and when they speak I smell their homeland. They are far from home and are sometimes meloncholy. Maufouz is the sad one. He refuses to speak. Hajif has words enough for both. He delights in life, regardless of the form it presents itself. He remembers the sweet taste of fig and longs for one last cup of hot tea and honey.
prompt:
lima beans
suspended disbelief
character
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