by Deirdre Tiernan, St Flannan’s College, Ennis
4th Place

To sit and ponder is a beautiful thing. The mind racing around your inner-most thoughts and landing on life's most peculiar oddities – the inability of human beings to lick their own elbows, the acclaimed humourless jokes on the outside foil of penguin bars (but they have given us - “What did the fish say when it swam into the wall? - Dam!!). These therapeutic sessions, where one can live whimsically among the clouds and wonder why elephants cannot fly and why Napoleon was such a good dancer, they must be the reason we are constantly listening to reports on how “ our school days are the best days of our lives”. To lie back on our beds, with our hands nestling under out heads, gazing up at the glow-in-the-dark stars spread so carefully across the ceiling, generating ideas to write upon, makes us feel how lucky we are.

Thoughts of an Arabian night come spindling down through the crevices of your brain, as you gaze up at the spiral pinball stars filtering the night sky. A boy of about sixteen treks across the desert bearing nothing but a hip flask of liquidated jojoba beans, a flaming torchlight and the clothes on his back. Accompanying him is his pet camel Zanibar. He has already discarded one of his ruby rings, heavy bracelets and a bag of gold, unable to carry the weight any longer through the sweltering heat. Forced him from his home by an invasion of tyrannical savages on his country, he had now left behind his father , his mother and his siblings. Having walked all day and well into the night, looking for soldiers to help him displace these aggressors. Prince Abdul Samir, eldest son of King Allermei, collapses onto the sand feeling inadequate to the task and wondering what could have been. His torch, which has only moments ago engulfed by a beautiful array of flames, is now quenched by the cold sand billowing on top of it.

Abdul walks into a room filled with clusters of people laughing in joyous celebration, clinking their glasses, dressed in rich garments with garnets and gold traipsed around their necks in the form of torques and beaded jewellery. As he continues through the room a loud applause arises, when the aristocracy notices his presence. He is summoned to a golden throne onto which he is thrust. A large crown embroidered with bright diamonds and precious stones is placed upon his head, immediately shifting its weight onto a newly pierced ear. Hi filigree fingers drum on the chair two sizes too big for him and with a smile he reveals three gold teeth, in an even neat row. The new king is surrounded by servants holding up trays of trifles and tiramisu, while standing to his left is Bacchus, leaning over and offering his newly imported seedless grapes. Beyond him are men and women relaxing in luxurious chamomile baths – all the signs of a happy kingdom. Suddenly Abdul is thrown through the air, away from his throne, landing abruptly on the hot sand.

Paralysed and panicky, he glances around unsure as to what has just happened, then suddenly seeing his camel supping a drink by a small stream, he frantically runs over, similar to a scavenger, skinny legs flailing, arms swinging and crumples onto the bank before burying his head in the water. Abdul, now feeling relief and shortness of breath, sits back on his heels staring at the reflection of Zanzibar in the slipstream. He watches in utter disbelief as the reflection begins to speak to him, in a drawling muffled droll - “Eat me, open me up and eat me!”

Prince Abdul slowly gets to his feet and twists to face the camel, whose lips are still submerged in the water. On hearing the soft quiet tantalising voice of his pet, Abdul hypnotically paces over to him, with his head lowered and eyes bulging greedily from their sockets. Cautiously, the young prince reaches for the hump and eases it off. He buries his outstretched arm in the entrails of the camel, surprised not to feel the warm, grotesque texture of blood and organs. He grips a long thin object, warily pulls it out revealing a beige, riveted baguette. The bread was devoured hungrily and almost immediately, the boy's gluttonous hand was driven back inside the hump unveiling a sumptuous dish of Cajun chicken dressed in a succulent creamed mushroom sauce served on a plate of medium-boiled rice, followed by an assortment of ice-cream and traditional Arabian crackers with a rich cream cheese filling. Abdul began with the chicken, taking sporadic breaks to plunge his face into the ice-cream, before ending his glorious meal with the Sphinx's home-made desert dessert. I the midst of this magical event, a compilation of colours had appeared, completely unnoticed by Abdul, from the camel's hump. The camel spoke again, this time in a soft clear whisper “Skittles – Taste the rainbow...” With the emergence of a small ripple of water, the face of his friend had disappeared.

The prince mounts the rainbow and embarks on his journey to the top, leaving behind only a small faint trail of feet. Wonder and awe could not being to describe how Abdul felt as his climbed higher and higher, sweeping his hands through the ascending clouds, tasting the lemon, apple, orange and raspberry marbles of delight. He turned, twirled and torpedoed through the air, stopping swiftly when he reached the top of the rainbow to feel wind silver through his hair and slice at his skin. His loosely arranged cotton clothes were flung around his ankles and wrists and with an almighty gush of wind, Abdul was sent sliding down the rainbow constantly accelerating and while slipping, scooping handfuls of sweets into his mouth. A combination of citrus fruit and raspberries exploded in his mouth, causing the sweets to curdle and exert a golden froth, with green and red highlights, to be blown into his eyes like a prism, instigating a violent twinge.

Hazily, Abdul looks up and spies his camel lying down, his head suppressed against the sand, and his fur outlining a sizable ribcage; the prince instantaneously begins coughing aggressively, surprised not to taste the flavoured marbles any longer, spluttering sand from his mouth, his eyes itching, he rubs them repetitively, before rising to his feet and ambling clumsily over to Zanzibar. Eyes now wilting and watering intensely, Abdul cannot take off the slow inflation and deflation of his pet's body, the tempo of the camel's breathing decelerating all the time. Gently Abdul strokes the camel's mane, muttering small soft apologies, then lying down beside him and wrapping his arms around the bony body. He finds himself to be unusually relaxed, as his listens to the healing sound of Zanibar's gradual heartbeat. Giving up on his fight for justice and freedom of his people, a small smile creeps across his face as he reminisces on his magical mirage, envisaging where his journey will end as he finally closes his eyes. With the loosening of his grip around his companion, he lets go of his quest to free his country from slavery and together they float off up into the air.

As Abdul rose through the air, I awoke from my reverie, unsure what to feel for the young prince. Mesmerised, I got up and walked to my desk, sat down and thought of his life, his journey. Wondering if he was lucky to escape persecution, leaving behind his family to die a beautiful death, I thought of the modern world and all its pessimism, speculating on whether I'd like to leave that way – weak, alone and helpless.