I am Adam Wagih, the owner and CEO of a major pharmaceutical company, a huge pyramid consisting of five thousand employees. I sit at the top of it. This great entity is the sea, and if a small stone is thrown into it from where I am, the result will be a huge wave that shakes the shore of the smallest worker in the company. Since my wife died of cancer about two years ago, every day has been similar to one another, until that day came when something strange and unique happened.
I woke up late.
Yes, I fell asleep too deeply, and that doesn't happen to me.
When I got out of bed I felt very unwell; a terrible headache, shattered bones, a faster heart than usual, and a throbbing vein in the back of my head.
I quickly ate my breakfast and swallowed a painkiller pill produced by our company, because "the poison cook tastes it."
The pain was getting worse. I waited impatiently for the pill to take effect as I watched one of the premium medical channels, one of my specialty medical channels.
The existence of medical satellite channels specialized only in health programs was an original idea of mine , I founded it and invested in it a reasonable amount. The surprise was... overwhelming success and a frenzied race by pharmaceutical companies to get a five or ten second advertising window to display their products on my channels... they willingly pay tens of thousands, and the number may break the hundred barrier during the peak, and this is specifically with the program "In the Temple" by Dr. Ali Salah Heikal, the well-known orthopedic specialist, and of course my company had the lion's share of advertising on the platforms of those channels.
When YouTube channels also appeared, viewership rates skyrocketed.
I remember all this as a way to distract myself from the pain that was starting to build in my head until it prevented me from going for my usual walk, but I reluctantly went out hoping to come back at the end of the day in better shape.
And just as the Earth has been in a fixed orbit since it was a rock emerging from the nebula, I would drive my car every day to get there, to the La Longue Gallery (a French name that suggests elegance, and also a clear hint that you would pay a hefty sum when you left carrying one of its paintings).
I pulled the car over to the side of the road and rolled down the window.
As usual, this mangy dog comes out from behind the building.
I say: As usual, because I don't know why every time he smells me, I find him coming out of a corner.
He glares at me angrily, then bares his fangs and begins to bark incessantly.
I hate dogs in general and this dog in particular.
I imagine myself with fangs digging into my buttocks and I feel grateful to the car that protects me from that fate.
It is now half past eight in the morning, and yet the sun has not yet risen, and her presence - I mean the woman I am waiting for - is for me the official timing of the dawning of the light, the rising of the nebula's light on the planet.
Her name is "Sama".
Every morning I wait by this gallery at the same time to see her, just to see her.
Adolescence? Yes, she is adolescence, I don't understand her, but I enjoy her; seeing her is like a heroin dose to get me high.
Without it I go into withdrawal; I get depressed, the day gets dark, the peace gets disturbed.
The gallery was on the ground floor with a large facade, and on the sides were large glass windows showing the paintings inside.
As for this window in front of me specifically, it comes to me at an ideal viewing angle; a large square window, whenever I see Sama between its sides it is as if I see a beautifully crafted painting, a painting that was not drawn by humans, but was drawn by one of the Greek gods to include it in the myths; its appearance is unmatched by the Mona Lisa in her prime.. I do not know the Mona Lisa, I do not like the Mona Lisa, I like Sama.
But now the canvas is empty and desolate, a canvas devoid of colors, a black sky without a moon, a sky without a sky.
Where are you Sama?!
I fidgeted in my seat for a long time and almost lost hope... until she came.
There it is, shining before me, my source of oxygen, the mango tree standing in my barren desert.
She was a wine-colored woman with captivating brown eyes, a slender waist, and her jet-black hair cascading softly over one shoulder. She looked like a beauty queen in a white jacket and a tight black skirt that highlighted the curves of her killer body.
A breathtaking oil painting, I sit for the rest of my life to contemplate its beauty.
Picasso once said: "Admiration is to stand in front of a painting for five hours, but love is to stand in front of it for only five minutes and then go away, then come back at night to steal it."
I wish I could kidnap you, Sama, storm in masked, carry you on my shoulders, and then run away.
Sama is happiness, love, and the only word that has meaning.
It is a heavenly language consisting of only three letters.. a language that no one but me is fluent in.
One day I will enter this place and introduce myself to her and declare my love to her.
Someday, maybe tomorrow, but definitely not today.
So I took permission from my eyes to leave, and I bade her farewell with sorrow.