.ﺃﻟﺘﻔﺖ ﺍﻟﻴﻬﺎ ﻣﻨﺪﻫﺸﺔ ﺣﻴﻦ ﺍﺻﻄﺪﻣﺖ ﺑﻲ ﻓﻲ ﺇﺣﺪﻯ ﺳﻮﺑﺎﺭﻣﺎﺭﻛﺎﺕ ﺍﻟﻌﺎﺻﻤﺔ ﺍﻟﻔﺮﻧﺴﻴﺔ
ﺑﺎﺭﻳﺲ .. ﻭﻫﻲ ﺗﻤﺴﻚ ﺑﻴﺪﻳﻬﺎ ﺍﻟﺮﻗﻴﻘﺘﻴﻦ ﺍﻟﺼﻐﻴﺮﺗﻴﻦ ﻳﺪﺍﻱ ﺍﻟﻤﺮﺗﺠﻔﺘﺎﻥ ﻛﻲ ﺃﺣﻤﻲ ﺟﺴﺪﻫﺎ ﺍﻟﻐﺾ ﻣﻦ
ﺍﻻﻧﻜﺴﺎﺭ ﻓﻮﻕ ﺍﻻﺭﺿﻴﺔ ﺍﻟﻘﺎﺳﻴﺔ ...ﺻﻮﺭﺓ ﺍﻹﻧﻜﺴﺎﺭ ﺃﻧﻄﻔﺄﺕ ﻓﻲ ﻋﻴﻨﻲ ﻭﺃﻧﺎ ﺃﻛﺎﺩ ﺍﺧﺒﺆﻫﺎ ﺩﺍﺧﻞ
ﻏﺼﻮﻥ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ ﻫﺬﻩ ﺍﻟﻄﻔﻠﺔ ﺍﻟﻤﺸﺎﻏﺒﺔ ﺍﻟﺠﻤﻴﻠﺔ ...
ﺗﺴﻠﻠﺖ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺃﻋﻤﺎﻗﻲ ﺍﻟﻤﻄﻤﺮﺓ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻨﺴﻴﺎﻥ ﺣﻴﻦ ﺻﺪﺣﺖ :
" comme tu est belle "... ﻛﻢ ﺃﻧﺖ ﺟﻤﻴﻠﺔ ...
- ﻧﻈﺮﺕ ﺍﻟﻴﻬﺎ ... ﺗﺮﻗﺒﺘﻬﺎ ﻣﻄﻮﻻ ... ﻭﺍﻧﺎ ﺃﺳﺒﺢ ﺑﻴﻦ ﺃﺷﺮﻋﺔ ﻋﻴﻨﻴﻬﺎ .. ﺍﻟﻠﻮﺯﻳﺖﻳﻦ ..ﻏﺒﺖ ﺑﻴﻦ ﺩﻓﺘﻲ
ﺣﻨﻴﻦ ﺫﻛﺮﻯ ﻣﺎ .. ﺗﻘﺘﻞ ﻣﺎ ﺗﺒﻘﻰ ﻣﻦ ﻧﺒﻀﺔ ﻭﺟﻊ ...
ﻛﺪﺕ ﺍﻗﻮﻝ ﻟﻬﺎ : ﻭ ﺃﻧﺖ ﺍﻟﺴﺤﺮ ﻓﻲ ﻋﻴﻨﻴﻚ ﻳﺸﺒﻪ ﺷﺨﺼﺎ ﺭﺑﻤﺎ ﺃﻋﺮﻓﻪ ﻣﻦ ﺃﻧﺖ ﻳﺎ ﻳﺎﺳﻤﻴﻨﺔ ﻫﺬﺍ
ﺍﻟﻠﻘﺎﺀ ..؟؟
ﻓﺠﺄﺓ ﺗﻨﺎﻫﻰ ﺇﻟﻰ ﺳﻤﻌﻲ ﻣﻦ ﻳﻨﺎﺩﻱ ﺑﺎﺱ !! ﻣﻲ ..
ﺃﺭﺗﺠﻔﺖ .... ﺳﻜﺎﻛﻲﻥ ﺃﻟﻢ ﻣﺎ ﺗﺮﺳﻢ ﻓﻮﻕ ﺯﺧﺎﺕ ﺩﻣﻊ ﻣﺘﺠﻤﺪ ..ﺻﻮﺭﺓ .. ﻣﻢﺯﻗﺔﻷﺳﻄﻮﻝ ﻣﻦ
ﺍﻟﺼﺪﻣﺎﺕ ..
ﺃﻟﺘﻔﺖ ﺑﺎﺗﺠﺎﻩ ﺍﻟﺼﻮﺕ ... ﻟﻜﻨﻨﻲ ﺳﻤﻌﺘﻬﺎ ﺗﺼﺮﺥ :
" Oui je suis la "!.. ﻧﻌﻢ ﺇﻧﻲ ﻫﻨﺎ
ﺛﻢ ﺃﺭﺩﻓﺖ ﻭﻫﻲ ﺗﺮﻗﺒﻨﻲ ﺑﻤﺤﺒﺔ ﻋﺎﺻﻔﺔ . ": ﺍﻧﻬﻤﺎ ﻭﺍﻟﺪﺍﻱ .... " se sont mes parents "
ﻭﺍﻧﺎ ﻣﻨﺪﻫﺸﺔ ﺣﺘﻰ ﺍﻟﺮﻏﺒﺔ ﻓﻲ ﺍﻟﻔﺮﺍﺭ ﻭﺍﻟﻤﻮﺕ ﺳﻤﻌﺘﻪ ﻫﻮ ﻭﺍﻟﺪﻫﺎ ﻳﻘﻮﻝ :ﺳﻴﻠﻴﻨﺎ ..ﺍﻳﻦ ﻛﻨﺖ ﻟﻘﺪ
ﺃﻗﻠﻘﺘﻨﺎ !..؟
- ﺭﺩﺕ ﺳﻠﻴﻨﺎ : ﻟﻘﺪ ﻛﺪﺕ ﺃﻗﻊ ﻋﻠﻰ ﺍﻷﺭﺽ ﻟﻮﻻ ﻫﺬﻩ .. ﺃ . ﺃ .. ﻻ ﺃﻋﺮﻑ ﺇﺳﻤﻬﺎ ﻳﺎ ﺃﺑﻲ ..
- ﻗﻠﺖ : ﺳﻴﻠﻴﻨﺎ ﺇﺳﻤﻲ ﺳﻠﻴﻨﺎ ...
ﺃﻧﺪﻫﺶ ﻣﺮﺗﺒﻜﺎ ﻣﺘﺎﻓﺠﺌﺎ ﺃﻛﺜﺮ ﻣﻨﻲ ..ﺣﻴﻦ ﺗﺒﻌﺜﺮﺕ ﻋﻴﻨﺎﻩ ﻓﻮﻕ ﻭﺟﻬﻲ ..ﻭ ﺗﻸﻷ ﺑﺮﻳﻖ ﺣﺬﺭ ﻣﻦ ﻋﻴﻦ
ﺯﻭﺟﺘﻪ .. ﻭ ﺃﻧﺎ ﺃﻏﺘﺎﻟﻨﻲ ﺍﻟﺸﻮﻕ ﻭ ﺍﻷﻟﻢ ..
- ﻗﺎﻻ : ﺷﻜﺮﺍ ....
- ﻗﻠﺖ : ﺍﻟﻰ ﺍﻟﻠﻘﺎﺀ ...
..ﻭ ﺗﺬﻛﺮﺕ ..ﻗﺎﻝ ﺫﺍﺕ ﺷﺘﺎﺀ ﻧﺎﻋﺲ ﺑﺎﺭﺩ ﻛﻘﻠﺒﻲ ﺍﻻﻥ : ﺳﻠﻴﻨﺎ ﻟﻦ ﻳﻔﺮﻗﻨﺎ ﺇﻻ ﺍﻟﻤﻮﺕ !!!!!!......
ﻭ ﺍﻋﺘﺒﺮﺗﻪ ﺍﻵﻥ ﻣﺎﺕ ﻓﻘﺪ ﻓﺮﻗﻨﺎ ﻣﻨﺬ ﺯﻣﻦ ﻣﻮﺗﻪ ﻓﻲ ﻗﻠﺒﻲ