He refrained from his futile night adventures, and was able to find pleasure in his children. But as he watched the Nile flowing incessantly under the balcony, he yearned for the peace of that desert dawn. He spent his nights in his room, reading and meditating, then at daybreak he would return to the balcony, look at the horizon, and wonder: Where is peace? The poems of the Arabs, the Persians, and the Indians are full of secrets, but where is happiness? Why do you feel so depressed within these patient walls, why this uneasy feeling that you’re only a guest, soon to depart?

“Thank God,” Mustapha said. “Everything is back to normal.”

He replied angrily, “Nothing is back to normal.”

Mustapha avoided arguing out of kindness, but Omar would not let up. “I have not returned home; I have not returned to work.”

“But, my dear friend…”

“And no one knows what changes the next hour has in store.”

One afternoon the door of his office opened suddenly and a man entered. He was of medium stature, with a shaved head and a large, pale face. His nose and hands were strong, and his amber eyes had a sharp glint. Omar looked at him incredulously for a moment, then stood up and exclaimed in a trembling voice, “Othman Khalil!”

They embraced and then sat down facing each other on the two chairs in front of the desk. Unable to control his excitement, Omar kept on repeating his greetings, congratulations, and blessings, while Othman smiled, as though he didn’t know what to say. Then there was a short pause and they exchanged glances. Fantasies mingled with memory, but in the depths of his being Omar felt a certain misgiving, a certain premonition of fear. So often he’d envisioned the meeting and had dealt with it in his imagination, yet it had now come as a surprise. He’d lost track of time and everything else recently—he knew that the prison term would not have ended yet, but hadn’t realized that three-quarters of it had already passed. In his present psychological state, he was not ready for the meeting. A man reenters this world from prison; another man leaves this world for an unknown universe.

“It’s been such a long time.”

Othman smiled.

“You were never absent for an hour from our minds. And here you are, determined to live a normal life again.”

He said in a rich, guttural voice, “You haven’t changed in appearance, but your health is not up to par.”

Omar was pleased that he’d noticed. “Yes, I’ve suffered a strange crisis. But, please, let’s not talk about me. I want to listen to what you have to say.”