Author Archives: Ahmed Gretly

About Ahmed Gretly

Ahmed Nader Gretly. Construction/Site Engineer, fiction writer, poet, psychopath, researcher, a book addict, and a daydreamer from Cairo, Egypt. Currently doing Construction Project Management, MSc, at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh.

Egypt, or How I Lost Hope by A. N. Gretly

​On the 2nd of January 2017, I watched ‘The Square’ for the first time on Netflix. It has been available for viewing since its release in 2013, but I could not bring myself to go through the process of revisiting … Continue reading

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Epilogue, or the Bear, the Wolf, and the Man In the Long Black Coat by A. N. Gretly

​It all comes down to the three; the Bear, the Wolf, and the Man In the Long Black Coat. I have thought about it time and time again, during periods of deep brooding as a result of constant insomnia, or … Continue reading

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Prelude, or Man on the Street by A. N. Gretly

​Here you have it. Well, that is if you’re still keen on knowing the particulars of a typical night on these sordid streets. I wonder if you can see it now, how things change through time. We sit together in … Continue reading

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The Hounds of Blair Street by A. N. Gretly

Mist rolls down the street on black-fanged high heels, all click-clacking footsteps and kerosene eyes with the sound of sozzled giggles bouncing off the ancient bricks in eternal vibrations that ripple through the smoke and hover about like wretched ghosts … Continue reading

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Top of the World by A. N. Gretly

I stood at the top of the world, and I pondered all the lives, all the stories that have been told, and the ones that are yet to be written. Scribbles on worn parchment, scroll after scroll, the ink still … Continue reading

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Stairway to Nothing by A. N. Gretly

Rocky stairway of time, where the world and all its grievances boil down to nothing, I wait. I see the humour, the comedy of existence, such a grave joke. One after the other. Funny the way things are, like they … Continue reading

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The Bridge by A. N. Gretly

I never forget a face, nor a well woven lie; water under the bridge. A plash that rippled the still waters of my heart, and the waves, they carried everything to some distant shore, desolate, and grim. And the railway … Continue reading

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