There’s half a headache rattling around in this skull of mine—but only half, because the other half of my head is barely there. It’s the effect of the chlorpromazine, which is making me half-insomniac and half-somnolent, and interferes with my movement and my balance. Yesterday, my hand suddenly began trembling, and I dropped what I was carrying. I no longer remember exactly what it was, but it was something heavy, because it made a loud thud when it crashed onto the floor. I told Miss Zahra about it, and that I was feeling involuntary muscle spasms in my face. She reassured me, saying it was a typical side effect of the chlorpromazine. Okay, then. You can’t get something for nothing, and in exchange for the disengagement and detachment that this medicine grants me, I am paying the price through a diminished performance in some of my faculties. The tremor, to be precise, is what confused me the most. It began after Luqman’s visit. I’m not saying he caused it, but it did start after he came.

Miss Zahra informed Dr. Andrew about my recent symptoms, and she did not neglect to convey my dream to him. He came to ask about the details. “Well? Have the voices come back to your head? You say that you saw Luqman, and that he was in your room? Perhaps we need a stronger dose.”

Before I could reply with a yes or no, he was writing nervously in his small white notebook. He tore out a page and gave it to Miss Zahra before adding, “You know that no one can get in here, and that all the doors are locked, right?”

“Yes, it’s impossible for anyone to get in … ”

“So?”

“So no one got in … except Luqman!”

Andrew has convinced me with his irrefutable arguments that what I saw was nothing more than my confused dreams. But even though his words persuaded me, I have begun to feel Luqman’s presence with me. I sense him, and I hear the sound of his breathing nearby. I turn around suddenly to surprise him, and when his face does not appear, a chill wave sweeps over me from head to foot, making my joints creak and my body shiver. Sometimes I pretend to be asleep, stretched out on the bed with my eyes closed, exhaling and snoring in rhythm, in case that might make him feel secure enough to come out of his hole. But the game takes too long, and in my weariness I drift off, or else I get out of bed, my patience having run out.