Sunday, March the 14th, 2004

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Scenes From the Lives of the Poets : 1. Maud Abdab

My name is Maud Abdab. I am the woman who ate blood oranges with Enver Hoxha. We sat together in uncomfortable beach chairs, without speaking. My Albanian was rusty, and I was in awe, and he saw I was in awe, and he relished my awe. Juice from the blood oranges dribbled down our jaws. From the discomfort of his beach chair, Enver Hoxha directed my attention to the left. I looked, and saw a rowing boat, and the rowing boat's oars. The oars were too small for the rowing boat—or—the rowing boat was too big for the oars. I turned to look at Enver Hoxha. After a pause, he rose, and pulled from his pocket a length of gauze. When he went, he shook my hand, but he did not let fall the gauze. He spoke then. He said he had to go and draft some new Albanian laws. I recall nothing more.