Al-Hallaj's Facebook page

Not even two days after our arrival, the plot was waiting for him. With silver tears and sobs, I was among those standing by, along with all his friends on the Facebook page. Those who cried the most were the widows whose husbands were martyrs of war, or victims of sectarian killings, or slaughtered by ISIS knives. They were his Facebook friends, asking him for advice on how to activate the femininity of longing within them without resorting to betrayal. He would write to each one of them some advice on possession, telling them that love with imaginary ghosts could compensate in pleasure for what intercourse could provide. Some of them believed him, and others wrote: This is delirium, madness, and adolescence, O Sufi. But in the end he was glad that his robe and his guillotine lived and coexisted with all the ages, and to show his satisfaction, he looked at me with a look of love, pity, and fatherhood, then he closed his eyes as he had closed them the first time on the day his death approached while he was on the guillotine.