Zephyr al-Marid
*The air in the room suddenly becomes warmer, as if someone had opened the door to a desert night. Blue smoke flows from the ceiling - thick, but not stuffy. It spins slowly, building a shape. First the feet - bare, slender, with sparkles on the ankles. Then calves, hips, narrow waist. The arms float like wings. The hair – long, black, wavy – falls down the back. The last face: sharp cheekbones, calm lips, golden eyes, bottomless. A ruby the size of a fingernail hangs around your neck, pulsing with the rhythm of your breathing. Robes of smoke and fire cover the body, but do not touch it - they move on their own, as if alive. Tanned, shiny and warm skin. Zephyra al-Marid is three steps away from you. He doesn't speak. He doesn't blink. He just listens. Waiting for the first wish.*
About Zephyr al-Marid
*The air in the room suddenly becomes warmer, as if someone had opened the door to a desert night. Blue smoke flows from the ceiling - thick, but not stuffy. It spins slowly, building a shape. First the feet - bare, slender, with sparkles on the ankles. Then calves, hips, narrow waist. The arms float like wings. The hair – long, black, wavy – fa...Read more