pass on。 I also understood that death would make me a wiser man。
Noheless; I was overe with the indecision of a man about to take a
long journey and unable to refrain from taking one last glance at his room; at
his belongings and his home。 In a panic I wished to see my daughter one last
time。 I wanted this so badly I was prepared to grit my teeth for a while longer
and endure the pain and my increasing thirst; to wait for Shekure’s return。
And thus; the deathly and gentle light before me faded somewhat; and my
mind opened itself up to the sounds and noises of the world in which I lay
dying。 I could hear my murderer roaming around the room; opening the
cabi; rifling through my papers and searching intently for the last picture。
When he came up empty…handed; I heard him pry open my paint set and kick
the chests; boxes; inkpots and folding worktable。 I sensed that I was groaning
now and then and making odd twitching gestures with my old arms and tired
legs。 And I waited。
My pain was not abating in the least。 I grew increasingly silent and could no
longer stand to grit my teeth; but again; I held on; waiting。
Then it occurred to me; if Shekure came home; she might encounter my
ruthless murderer。 I didn’t want to even think about this。 At that instant; I
sensed that my murderer had exited the room。 He’d probably found the last
painting。
I’d bee excessively thirsty but still I waited。 e now; dear daughter;
my pretty Shekure; show yourself。
She did not e。
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I no longer had strength to withstand the suffering。 I knew I would die
without seeing her。 This seemed so bitter I wanted to die of misery。 Afterward;
a face I’d never seen before appeared to my left; and smiling all the while; he
kindly offered me a glass of water。
Forgetting all else; I greedily reached for the water。
He pulled the glass back: “Denounce the Prophet Muhammad as a liar;” he
said。 “Deny all that he has said。”
It was Satan。 I didn’t answer; I wasn’t even afraid of him。 Since I never once
believed that painting amounted to being duped by him; I waited confidently。
I dreamed of the endless journey that awaited me and of my future。
Meanwhile; as I was approached by the illuminated angel whom I’d just
seen; Satan vanished。 Part of me knew that this glowing angel who had caused
Satan to flee was Azrael。 But another rebellious part of my mind remembered
that in the Book of the Apocalypse it was written that Azrael was an angel with
one thousand wings spanning East and West and that he held the whole world
in his hands。