This possibility had never crossed his mind. He hated His Excellency Bahjat Noor and cursed him a thousand times. Bahjat Noor should have stood up for him. Damn them all! Did they think he could work for the benefit of others all his life? And who was this new Director? Who was this Abdullah Wajdi? How could he introduce himself to him as one of his staff? The shame of it! Shame would pursue him down the corridors of the ministry, and many were they who would gloat over his plight!

Bajhat Noor called him to his office.

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Bayyumi.”

“I’ve come to despair of doing my best in life,” he answered, not seeking to conceal his indignation.

“No, no. He is a relative of the Minister.”

“I have learned to envy lazy officials.”

“I repeat, I’m sorry, and I can tell you His Excellency the Under Secretary is sorry too.” The Director General was silent for a moment and then went on: “Don’t despair! It’s been agreed to promote you to First Deputy this month as soon as the present one has left.”

No use. Promotions did not matter except as a means to his most cherished hope, the hope to which he had dedicated his life. The new Director was a young man of only forty, which meant that, if things went their natural course, he would be pensioned off as a Deputy Director or at best, and then only by a miracle, as Director of Administration. The dream of his life was shattered and the past was dead and buried, leaving behind it only the blackness of illusion. Perhaps he would have been better off driving a cart like his father. For the first time in his life despair overcame him and he felt the end of his life much closer than the achievement of his precious hope.

A new idea possessed him with a force he had not experienced before: marriage. He should not procrastinate any longer; procrastination would serve no purpose. It was enough that the best time of life for love and marriage was gone. How he yearned for a wife, for genuine affection, for an honest partnership, a warm house, children, a human relationship, a loving heart, a kind touch, conversation, a refuge from torment, a shield against death, a savior from loss, a prayer niche worthy of true faith, a resting place secure from foolish dreams, a truce with frugality and deprivation and loneliness.

“Woman is life, and in her presence Truth is crowned by Death itself with all Death’s solemnity.”