Measured Against the Djinn

Night fell over the desert construction site like wet cement. Past seven, the engineer was

alone in his prefab cabin, finishing paperwork under a flickering light.

As he packed up, the toilet flushed. He froze—no water after hours. It flushed again,

choking, with raspy breathing. Pipe pressure, he thought. But then the door

handle turned from inside. Click. Click. Air turned cold.

Light flickered green. Wrong shadows leaked under the door. A voice whispered

his name, measured like a bill of quantities. The toilet door burst open.

A djinn: absence shaped like a man, eyes like pits, skin cracked concrete. “You inspected the