As it happened, tomorrow arrived, but I did not see it. I slept a long time, far off, where I met a great number of people. I got lost, returned, and settled in a magnificent house. I began to explore its rooms, its floors, its gardens, its mountains, and I wandered with a woman among its various wings. Then Neda appeared, pale and regretful, half-naked under an open overcoat. She was wearing pink and black underwear, and she placed a finger over her lips as she whispered, “Sshh!” It occurred to me that she was working as a model, or as a salesperson, and someone was forcing her to wear Victoria’s Secret as she tried to make me understand something. Next I saw my father, standing at the window with his back somewhat hunched. He was lifting one leg as though to jump, but this time he was frozen inside a painting and did not move. I came close to the painting and used a white towel to wipe away the window frame and the outside details that had been drawn there. The colors started running on all four sides and began to cover the man. I was terrified at what was happening to the painting and cried out: “Father! Father! Jump! Come on, jump!” At that point, I leapt from a bed soaked with my own sweat.

I waited another hour, until it was exactly 10:25. When Miss Zahra did not appear, I decided to go and find her. I was hungry and annoyed. I pulled the door handle violently, but the door didn’t budge. I tried again. It remained stuck. After a few more tries, I began kicking it and shouting, “Let me out of here! Miss Zahra! The door is stuck! The handle won’t turn!”

After a few minutes, I heard footsteps in the hallway coming toward my room. A hoarse voice announced itself, keys were inserted in the lock, and a young, broad-shouldered, blond man appeared. “I’m Hazim,” he said. “Sorry for the delay. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your breakfast.”

I stopped him with a yell. “Where’s Miss Zahra?”

“Miss Zahra has been transferred to a different floor.”

“Do you people think you can lock me in?”

“Those are the orders.”

“I want an interview with Andrew. Now! This instant!”

“Fine. I’ll let him know. Don’t worry.” Then he closed the door again and locked it.

When something unexpectedly crashes into you, you look around to make sure it isn’t all a dream. Then you make sure the situation actually relates to you and isn’t just a coincidence. You stare at things, reassemble the details, and sniff the air. In the end, when you are forced to admit that, yes, it’s you, and the event actually did happen, you’re left in a daze, and then the shock settles in.