It is 12:11 AM, and tomorrow I got no work, so I stayed this night playing a video game with Giliana. We played football in his Playstation 2. At first he beated me (Italy) by Germany. Then he chose KSA and beated me again. Then I chose Barcelona and again KSA beated me. He even had some goals marked by his goalkeeper. It was fun. On the shelf next to us were the ashtray and the juices. There was also the novel that I started just before minutes: "The Death of the Father" by Ahmed Khalaf.
It is page 78 and the three friends, the novelist, the unknown man, and the painter are spending their time in the painter's drawing studio. The painter Adil, is drinking Raki, while serving the better and more expensive wine to his guests. They talk about their memories. We knew the Adil was poor and called by one of his female colleagues as the "Mendiant d'Amour" alluring to his multiple failures in his seeks of befriending the girls.
The unknown man, had a brother named Ismail, who loved Sara. He had an uncle named Noah. Those names are historically dense.
As opposed to Al-Rikabi's "The Book of Eternity" three friends, Ahmad Khalaf three friends are relax in spite of their complex personal and familial histories.
They seem more wise and mature.
I am invited tomorrow to a lunch with two men. I think we will eat fish.
I am hearing now Chopin Nocture Op. 09,1 in B flat minor and will proceed after publishing this to read the rest of the novel, to enjoy the accompany of the wise.