Jafar al-Sharif beheld himself in a full-length mirror and was pleased by what he saw. He particularly liked the way the full sleeves of his thawb swirled when he moved his arms in expansive gestures, as he often did when he was telling some exciting story or fable. When he straightened his shoulders and gazed imperiously outward, hands resting regally on his hips, he could easily be taken for the mighty wizard he claimed to be.
Thus attired, Jafar al-Sharif strode boldly into the courtyard of the oasis’s caravanserai where the party was being housed. Amid the bustling servants preparing for their departure, Jafar spied his daughter Selima, standing to one side and looking lost and forlorn.
All the pride he’d just been feeling in his new clothes vanished, to be replaced by the terrible f
