Without event

Dedication:To everyone who adheres to hope, even though he lives in Egypt ... and encourages Zamalek!You are free...My children return to me and stare at my corpse hanging from its neck with a thick rope tied to an iron arm that protrudes like a birth defect from the wall of my room, which I have never benefited from before now. They find my body stabbed in the heart with a knife. My hand holds the knife desperately and will not let go. They find small parts of my brain scattered over the bed on which my body lies, while the gun is on the floor in front of me. Forensic doctors notice burn marks on my temples that prove that the weapon was very close. They find my body stiff, with my right hand holding a syringe stuck in a vein in my left wrist. They learn two days later that what was in the syringe was cyanide. They find my body in a clotting sea of ​​blood, and a thread of the same color extends from the sea to my artery, cut with a razor. They find that my body is black in some visible areas of the skin, and then they understand after one of them notices a bare wire in my hand.They cry...Someone decides to cremate me and scatter the ashes in the sea in my honor. They are already starting to implement what I suggest. They meet their mother in a felucca they rent from a small marina. The younger son blasphemes. Panting. They reach an area far from the beach. The eldest takes out a plastic bag containing gray. He was about to empty the bag into the sea, unless I woke up again. I rise, not as a mythical phoenix, but as a cast inferno that changes the color of the sea red.They drown...