ﺣﻚ ﺫﻳﻠﻪ ﺑﻜﻌﱯ ،ﻭﻭﺍﺻﻞ ﺍﳌﺸﻲ ﻣﻌﻲ ﺣﺘﻰ ﻣﻨﻀﺪﺓ ﻛﺘـﺎﺑﱵ .ﻭﻫﻨـﺎﻙ ﻛﺎ�ـﺖ ﻣﺮﺗﺒـﺔ ﺃﻭﺭﺍﻗـﻲ ﺍﻟﺬﺍﺑﻠـﺔ ﻭﺩﻭﺍﺓ ﺍﳊـﱪ ،ﻭﺭﻳﺸـﺔ ﺍﻟﺒﺠﻌـﺔ ،ﰲ ﺍﻟﻮﻗﺖ ﺍﻟﺬﻱ ﺍ�ﺪﻟﻌﺖ ﻓﻴﻪ ﺍﻟﺸﻤﺲ ﺑﲔ ﺃﺷﺠﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﻠﻮﺯ ﰲ ﺍﳊﺪﻳﻘﺔ ،ﻭﺩﺧﻠﺖ ﺳﻔﻴﻨﺔ ﺍﻟﱪﻳﺪ ﺍﻟﻨﻬﺮﻳﺔ ،ﺍﳌﺘﺄﺧﺮﺓ ﺃﺳﺒﻮﻋﺎً ﺑﺴﺒﺐ ﺍﳉﻔﺎﻑ ،ﺇﱃ ﻗﻨﺎﻝ ﺍﳌﺮﻓﺄ ﻭﻫﻲ ﺗﻄﻠﻖ ﺍﳉﺆﺍﺭ .ﺇﳖﺎ ﺍﳊﻴﺎﺓ ﺍﻟﻮﺍﻗﻌﻴﺔ ﺃﺧﲑﺍً ،ﺑﻘﻠﱯ ﺍﻟﻨﺎﺟﻲ ﻭﺍﶈﻜﻮﻡ ﺑﺎﳌﻮﺕ ﰲ ﺣـﺐٍ ﻃﻴـﺐٍ ،ﰲ ﺍﻻﺣﺘﻀـﺎﺭ ﺍﻟﺴـﻌﻴﺪ ﻷﻱ ﻳﻮﻡٍ ﺑﻌﺪ ﺑﻠﻮﻏﻲ ﺍﳌﺌﺔ.
- ٥١ -