Tales of Dragons, Rabbits and Roosters

Sand Dunes in Saudi Arabia

Like the tales of 1,001 Arabian Nights, many of my stories take place in a kingdom whose rule has been passed from father to son for 200 years.  To an American this seems like quite a long time.  But to the natives whose ancient mothers remember the day Gilgamesh arrived looking for the pearl of immortality, the royal family’s arrival is as fresh as this morning’s bread.

As kingdoms go, it is a cosmopolitan kingdom under a king nothing like the English Henry the Eighth.  Not only do the muezzins call from the minarets five times a day, but followers of Ganesh, Buddha, Jesus and Zoroaster all congregate here and freely practice their rites.  Still I am a visitor.  It is best to stay out of the palace intrigues and to avoid the marching people.

After 2,555 nights on this desert island, I have stories to share.  Depending on who is doing the telling – they take place at the edge of the Arabian Gulf where the call “Allah Akbar” drowns out the sound of the waves.  When the sand here burns our feet, my fellow dragons, rabbits and I take to the sky and fly to diverse lands where we collect and create our own tales.