Fariha’s Reviews > A River Dies of Thirst: Journals > Status Update

He said: 'Hope is neither something tangible nor an idea. It is a talent.' He took a beta blocker, putting the question of hope aside, and for some obscure reason felt quite happy.

He opened the window on what remained of a horizon and saw two cats playing with a puppy in the narrow street, and a dove building a nest in a chimney, and he said: 'Hope is not the opposite of despair. Perhaps it is the faith that springs from divine indifference which has left us dependent on our own special talents to make sense of the fog surrounding us.'

When he thought about hope, the gap widened between a body that was no longer agile and a heart that had acquired wisdom. He did not repeat the question 'Who am I?' because he was so upset by the smell of lilies and the neighbours' loud music.

The spectre of the dead man appeared to them from a cloudless sky and when they opened fire on him they did not see a single drop of blood, and they were afraid.

'What has the woman done wrong?' They said: 'She will give birth to a memory.' 'What has the tree done wrong? They said: 'A green bird will appear from it.' And they shouted: 'Fear, not justice, is the basis of power.'

Let us then turn our attention to comforting the frightened man.' When they went down the road of sympathising with the killer, some foreign tourists passing by asked them: 'What has the child done wrong?' They answered: 'He will grow up and frighten the frightened man's son.

Scholars of the distinction between life and reality say: 'If this ordinary event had taken place anywhere but here, in this holy land, would we have even known the victim's name?

'Justice emanates from the generosity of power. The victim should apologise for the trauma he has caused the killer.'

The killer looks at the spectre of the dead man, not into his eyes, without regret. He says to those around him: 'Don't blame me. I'm afraid. I killed because I'm afraid, and I'll kill again because I'm afraid.' Some of those present, accustomed to favouring psychological analysis over the laws of justice, say: 'He is defending himself.'

If there is any point to jealousy - which is supposed to be the same colour as the sunflower - then it is that we view our surroundings with the heroic spirit of one defeated, and learn to focus on correcting our mistakes in honourable contests.