THE CLOCK AND THE MAN

At about 4 am, I woke up 20 minutes earlier. Why do not I say I did not taste the taste of sleep then? The work experience that awaits me tomorrow is exciting, I stood long before I slept in front of my two suitcases. I had to choose one .. I preferred gray. My mother said to me, "I met her when I met the manager. Other clothes." the details. I forgot I was wearing you. She tied the small clock to ring at 4 am and woke up. And I was afraid to let me down and try it three times, and I recommended my mother to wake me up and volunteered my aunt and sister and father all .. Indeed, I did not sleep that night, and when the ringing rang out of the clock jumped from my bed, and jumped my mother and aunt and sister, I had water to shave, and my aunt to prepare me a table I did not know like her generosity before becoming an employee ..
I hurried, but when I reached the door I hesitated and gathered myself to ask (from) .. And behind the two rubber-covered shelves I heard who says "Have you woke up, Mr. Fathi" .. and extended my hand to the door knocking I treat her, and when he opened the door was re-inserted it I could not I notice through the blackness more than a tent moving away from the house. I promised my hairdo amused. And did not put my aunt the opportunity to complain about her intelligence, she said in a tone that does not lack certainty .. "Must be the function of Fathi (important), otherwise why the government awaken .. ??"
I went to the door and my aunt's calls slapped my back through the cleft door so that her voice would not be lost except in the folds of my mouth. The voice of the muezzin, which rose deep on its range in the ripples of its mixture, is something of the whiteness of the dawn, and a sinister Nadia fell into the ears of the Sarin, causing the appearance of the shrinking features of the wind.
Prayer is better than sleep .
But my city was asleep. For the first time I felt the noise of my shoes on the tiled ground and I was urging my feet not to hit the boy Fran disappeared head to ears in
a strange heart ..
The train station ... or (the railway) as we call it is located in the face of the town .. It was an event of rebellion against its historical walls. It is located about two kilometers from the southern gate of the city. Before we reach the gate, we have to pass an impressive Khan Atari, which is an active center for grain trading and money. And his family was a mixture of traders and brokers and animals .. The donkey was extending his mouth to any bag of grain open at the entrance to a shop and waiting for the bargaining between the owner and trader in a face ...
But when I passed it at that dawn silent silent of the Sabla
, I ran, but I remembered that I was a staff member. I went through the gate and cut the distance between the gate and the track active. Then I ran into one of the train cars and highlighted for the first time the free card that the administration gave me.
Perhaps the card caught the attention of two young men sitting in the opposite seat, but they did not try my explanation, and I did not find myself daring to be intruded and worked contemplating the distances in front of me quickly and began to dawn dawn morning.
The first working day is not an easy experience. There are views that are scrutinizing, questioning, or denouncing or confusing. There are files that are all ambiguous, numbers that do not have any first names, symbols that I have to express. I have not assumed more than a penance in a great circle crowded .. If my aunt saw me to review herself and I overcame to eat two eggs once ... I assumed - and came to wake me - to be important, but on my first day not more than a Afraid in front of a ferocious dog. I ate the eggs at the dawn of the next day when the sound came to wake me up, and I felt so important, so I did not open the door to conclude with a word of thanks to notify me ..
We often keep our explanations. We do not discuss them twice. My aunt succeeded in making me believe in her intelligence for a whole month. I was surprised at every dawn without trying to open the door to receive his voice with some warmth ...
It was more than a surprise to me when I heard a colleague from My colleagues - after ten months in the melting of the ice mass of the old to the new colleagues - says that Abu Fuad's roads are more disciplined than an hour, otherwise it would cost him to ride a car every day to the work station in Haifa when he misses the train ...
For the first time, Dawn can not have a name, personality, circumstances and features ... It was not even the time Balns Of me more than the voice of repeating every dawn one phrase does not differ. Today, however, I find out by chance that he has a name and assumed that he should have a face as well ...
When he walked our door the next day I was faster than his legs and opened the door. He saw me respond to my greeting without enthusiasm and then he said, "Are you Fathi?"
Was a man in the middle of his life, disappearing under a black coat and a dark Turkish mantle, and in the form of what suggests that more than a hand stretching to touch the doors at a certain date is not late or progress ...
I found myself marketed to say "prefer" and apologized .. He said that He has to wake up Ghassan, Abdullah, and Yusuf. And left me and turned around and swallowed him in the dark of the road ..
But I am on the train on the way to work I tried in my conversation with Abdullah, who became a friend, I was diagnosed and found myself in front of a wonderful story and really impressive, was not new to me ..
My mother, my aunt, my sister and I and my neighbors, who were watching us on the eve of the town grabbing a story wrapped in all the circumstances of the tragedy, told the story of Fouad, the railway officer who arrived at the station late, and the train took action. He hung on the door of the vehicle trying to climb, but his hand failed him, and the barrier came down and fell under the wheels, and tomorrow the young man was a mixed block under the wheels that had no heart.
When the town was sad and lived for a week, the meat and iron drama we knew was that the dead father was a yarn merchant. He had a small shop in the cloth market. He was wearing braids hanging from colored threads and a small scale. My aunt ordered me to buy her two dirhams of yellow silk thread, Owe), which is different in dressing.
The history of the story dates back to two years ago, and when I came back with all the details I had heard, I forgot to ask my friend about all this related to the father's task of awakening the staff. But I could not stifle my curiosity until evening, and I left my office and I meant to come back to him sadly, beyond the grief that I remember grieving on the eve of our hearing about the boy's death on that hideous picture. The father who lost his only child had to rise before every dawn and roam his son's classmates One by one. Do not delay the train, and do not mix flesh and blood under the wheels ..
And I carried my story to my family and we are at the dinner table, and I wanted to lose my importance from their eyes and I reveal the secret of the tariq .. I cried my mother .. My aunt and between my eyes and I was without tears, but did not stop chewing. But she worked hard to look sympathetic the next morning I rose and had stopped preparing to prepare for my hair after a week of my work and as the door opened so I opened it after covering her face more white veil and carried him coffee and vanity and swore only to drink our coffee If standing on the door ..
It was one week before that winter, when the water flowed in the gutters, the tiled alleys were washed and gathered in the grooves that had been dug between the tile and the other. I had not tied my watch. Indeed, I had been silent about this since I was sure that the tariq was no less disciplined. .. I was enjoying the warmth under my cheek like a hole in front of a fireplace delayed until I hear the road on the door .. When you reached me I shook the quilt but I did not celebrate the view of my watch, and I wore my clothes and I was distracted and opened the door to surprise the man standing trying to detect the light spray and droplets falling on Surf the roofs by standing under a canopy The Door .
"I did not stand up because of the rain ... Actually, I was a little late for you, you took me in a nap ... and this rain may have delayed me also ... I started I ran with my son, you only have to get to the station for ten minutes ... "
Under the dampened lamp, there was little time to make sure, there were barely nine minutes to reach the gate. I gathered my strength and pushed it to the feet of the road with a walking pace. I doubled its speed when I finished the tiled alleys and the roofed cavern. The more I tried to stand to catch my breath, the more I saw a mixed mass of blood and flesh before the train was trampled by a man like him In the circle of the railway, I feel that my mouth has a taste of tragedy .. And that my feet a strange force ..
The train arrived standing and did not move, and I was able to get up and take my breath. The train was to walk after I arrived, it was important not to hang on to it, and not to fall under the wheels. But the train was not pleased. And we understood that a simple simple emergency needs to be repaired to minutes may prevent the train from moving as usual when the end of the big clock of the cycle, which is never tired of them ..
And through the open train window .. The fields were drinking rain and break the weeds under the weight of heavy burdens, Who do not sleep with the porters who have finished transporting the baggage or the goods. They sat on the frieze, sipping cups of tea and fizzing. I was staring at the door. I looked at the vendor of cakes and eggs when I saw the stray man appear to me through the door, wiping his face and shaking his wet, Hardly ..
What brought him to the station? Is it a traveler today? Or was he afraid that I would miss the train except for my back to reassure me of my arrival? I could not do anything, as the yawning whistles punctuated the gray foggy air of dawn, the wheels on the line and the noise of its rotation, moving away from the station, and scrambling away, leaving only a black dot with many details in front of my eyes.
The train arrived standing and did not move, and I was able to get up and take my breath. The train was to walk after I arrived, and it was important not to hang on to it, not to fall under the wheels. But the train was not pleased. And we understood that a simple simple error needs to be repaired to minutes may prevent the train from moving as usual when the end of the big clock of its cycle, which never tired of them ..
And through the open train window .. The fields were drinking rain and breaking the necks of the grass under the weight of heavy burdens, and the station that does not sleep, the porters who finished the transfer of luggage or goods sat on the frieze sipping cups of tea and fizzy .. I was staring at the door, The seller of cakes and eggs, when I saw the man, appeared to me through the door, wiping his face and shaking his wet straw and barely breathing.
What brought him to the station? Is it a traveler today? Or was he afraid that I would miss the train except for my back to reassure me of my arrival? I could not do anything, as the yawning whistles punctuated the gray foggy air of dawn, the wheels on the line and the noise of its rotation, moving away from the station, and scrambling away, leaving only a black dot with many details in front of my eyes. When I heard the roads on our door at the dawn of the next day I got all the details of yesterday, and I was relieved because the man did not run and he hit me to the station under a rainy sky.
So I did not tie his bowels to his lack of methods at my door two days later. He thought his roads had disappeared with the primus in our old kitchen. But I made sure he was not present when I heard Abdullah on the train wondering why ... he did not attend the second or third day. It was our surprise and our questioning that took us all the way back to the afternoon, which I ended up asking to ask about in his small shop in the cloth market. "I was going to the market before I ordered the house and I had to ask twice about the location of his shop exactly, and when it was closed, the iron bar was in place, and I asked his neighbor," He is a traveler or a patient. Like it or better ... "
The story was told to Abdullah and we agreed to look for his house tomorrow. And I was the most upset everyone I was afraid to be a cause of pain and pain. When we were looking for a house next door, after we asked his neighbors about his approximate location, we ended up at a wooden door. We understood that he was leading to a courtyard where the two rooms were inhabited by the man. We asked two boys to talk about whether the man had passed in the street today and he thought so. I was not convinced, I could not justify not convincing me anything, just a strong feeling that led me to handle the outer door was opened, and there was a square tiled in the middle of a small pond and was on the edge of the untapped trees charm I had no papers, and in front of me stood another door that had not been fixed by the iron rail hanging from one of the shelves. I knocked again and Abdullah joined me. The voice raised a woman who came from one of the windows of a house next door higher than his house overlooking the courtyard and stood up waiting curiously. Our promise is gone. "It's better for us to go back," said Abdullah, gripping his fist. But I refused. I was aroused in the hidden obsession, I was touched by the pain in my conscience, extended my hand to treat my hatred did not open. I leaned back to the door and with all the force that my back was carrying I pushed it, and I was about to fall from the impact of a strong impulse. I knew that the door had opened.
And through the open train window .. The fields were drinking rain and breaking the necks of the grass under the weight of heavy burdens, and the station that does not sleep, piling the porters who have finished the transfer of luggage or goods and sat on the frieze sipping tea cups and fiddle .. I was staring at the door, The seller of cakes and eggs when I saw the man who appeared to me through the door, wiping his face and shaking his wet strawbush and catch his breath with difficulty ..
What brought him to the station? Is it a traveler today? Or was he afraid that I would miss the train except for my back to reassure me of my arrival? I could not do anything, as the yawning whistles punctuated the gray foggy air of dawn, the wheels on the line and the noise of their turn and walked away from the station, and I moved away, leaving only a black dot with many details in front of my eyes.
And entered after Abdullah refused entry and waiting for me at the outer door to demonstrate that he did not care about all this intrusive .. There was a room in the middle of the table with crumbs of news and remnants of a dish to spend another room inside the two beds of iron and one coordinated Furnished with a gray blanket. And I guessed to be a dead boy. And the other one was covered by a pile over a body ... I gathered my courage to tell him Fhantni when he saw me face Fagr mouth and glass eyes ...
The man was dead ... Like everything else in the room ... The small treasury gloomy .. And the parents furnished with striped mat ... and the mirror furnished yellow spots like cost on the face of grotesque ... there was no living thing ... Yes , there was a wall clock in the wall ... tends her voice and says Tech Tech Tech ...