“Once, I dreamt that I was dead. Somebody had shot me down in the street. Why kill me?! He killed so many other souls before. He was probably used to killing me in his dreams and now he is invading my own dream to kill me. Perhaps, if I had carried on my dream, after my death, up till the end, I would have entered some world where there would be no death.

That stranger’s bullet crossed my body. I do not know him, he does not know me either. There are no mutual feelings of animosity between us… However, even in the dream, I never could go further than the doorstep of Death. There always comes the morning to steal me away from that wish. Why can I not live my own death in my own dream? Is eternity an attribute related exclusively to dreams? Is eternity a mere dream?”

He passes by so swiftly that I cannot distinguish his features. He leaves no trace behind. I thought of setting a trap for him. I started to identify the time when he passes by but he continued to escape from me sneering at my traps, laughing so loudly that the entire place echoes his sarcasm.

I notice strange writings on the back of his jacket that remains clearly drawn in my mind’s eye and freely hung in the air. Actually, the writings on his back were so queer both in colour and shape, written in a language that I have never heard of. A language not in use, I dare say.

Yesterday night, I dreamt of an angel teaching me that very language. In fact, I am accustomed to postponing to my night dreams all my day-time problems. In this way, puzzling questions die away leaving space for spiritual solutions.

 In my dream, I was haunted by such an intense desire to learn that queer language that I found myself speaking it as fluently as a native speaker does.

I was happy, I told my targeted shadow:  « Just wait until tomorrow and I will show you…» but, that morning, he did not pass by nor did he do the following day.

Has he read my dream?

He must have an unbelievable intuition, then.

 What if he was the angel who visited me in my dreams, clad differently pretending to teach me that weird language?

That would be an additional irony.

Is he making fun of me?

Has he taught me a different language to mislead me?

Why does he not want me to get to know him?

Why does he appear exclusively to me?

Has he got any message for me?

Does he appear also to other people elsewhere?

For several days, he has been away and my questions remained postponed and conditioned by his emergence. He may be getting ready some new surprise for me. Actually, I have never felt afraid of what he may be preparing for me. I just guess that he might be taking delight in making me hesitating and anxious.

I hardly leave the place where I usually see him walk by. No sign precedes his emergence. Can he be, at this moment, here behind me or above me or beneath me, watching me while I am blind to his presence?

I am extremely anxious to see him. If any investigation is started on the subject, I may be accused of hallucination or folly.

Again, he passes by discreetly with new writings on his back: A newer language.

I took refuge in my dream again to learn his new language. I played back the last phrases that emerged on his back but the letters were joined together to show… my name!

What is going on?

Why precisely name on his back?

My dilemma grows worse and worse. I find myself, early every morning, waiting for him. He usually emerges at this time before I wake up at sun-rise.

 However, this time, he changed completely the ritual of his passage, walking by so very slowly…

Probably, he has understood that I will never know the secrets of his emergence.

I followed him with my eyes. In previous times, I could not have a look at his face because of the rapidity of his passage. Now, it is quite different. At first, he turned his back to me as he used to do. This time, his upper part is naked with no numbers or writings on, I never know the reason why, at that moment, I pronounced my name.

I started calling him by my name, in my last hopeless try. Then, I saw him turn around. In a few moments, I will have a full view of his features. They cannot fail me. This time, I am sure that his secret will be revealed to me…

The luminous halo surrounding his face is slowly fading away until it disappeared completely and  I saw my own face within : I was that one passing by myself all along the way indiscreetly, leaving no trace or shadow behind…

 ***********

* The translator, Mohamed Saïd Raïhani, is a Moroccan translator, scholar & short-story writer, born on December 23^rd 1968 in Ksar El Kébir. He published in Arabic "The Singularity Will " (Semiotic Study on First-names) 2001, "Waiting For the Morning" (Short stories) 2003, "Thus Spoke Santa Lugar-Verde" (Short stories) 2005, "The Season Of Migration to Anywhere" (Short stories) 2006. He is getting ready for printing:"Beyond Writing & Reading» (testimonies) and "Kais & Juliet" (An E-Love Novel).