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of effort, he was finally released and the first thing he did was to call a cab. He waited another fifteen minutes for the driver to arrive, a blue canopy, and on boarding the same he greeted the driver and indicated his destination: The bus station. At his signal, the car immediately left and faced a heavy traffic arrived in fifteen minutes to the desired location. Philliphe paid for the ticket, said good-bye, and went downstairs. He drove to the booth where he was informed that the next bus to Arcoverde would arrive in an hour. In order to pass the time, he crossed the avenue, took juice with cheese bread in the cafeteria and still had time to spend in a small bookstore where he bought his favorite magazines. After, he crossed the avenue in the opposite direction and returned to the bus station. He bought the ticket and waited some more.

      Arriving the bus bound for his beloved Arcoverde, he did not waste time, entering immediately choosing one of the front seats. He waited a little longer and then finally they're off.

      This was the beginning of the journey back. During the long journey, he had time to reflect on the present state, he took conversation with the neighbor of armchair and took the opportunity to read the magazines he had bought. When he felt tired, he took a nap.

      Three hours later, he woke up with the bumps of the car and realized that he was near his land, the beloved Arcoverde of so many stories. Moments later, he holds the suitcase, knocks on the driver's cabin and asks to stop. The driver obeys the bus stops and finally he descends, towards its place (fifteen meters), near the town of Caribbean. Holding what was left of the suitcases, it takes another fifteen minutes to reach his house, and when he arrives, he falls exhausted on the bed. He would try to sleep to relieve his troubled mind and would only get up the other day to give a fate to his poor life.

      Dawns. Philliphe wakes up, bathes, changes clothe, prepares and eats breakfast (bread with eggs), he brushes his teeth and leaves for the city where he was to perform his public function. His position was fiscal auditor of the state farm, of high hierarchy and remuneration, fruit of his concurrence efforts.

      In twenty minutes' drive, using his own car, he arrives at his place of work, the state farmhouse pole in Arcoverde, a large, two-story building. After passing the entrance gate, he passes through a corridor and another door and then he has access to the main hall where the work groups are located. He gently greets his colleagues and is comforted by the fact of the tragedy. He thanks and starts toil. He spent about eight hours on site and outside work with companions and in this turn no abnormality occurred. When he completes his assignments, he says goodbye, does the same course in feeling the opposite, he goes beyond the entrance-exit gate, and goes to the car that is parked in the neighboring street. When he arrived, he would settle into his seat, he turns on the ignition, and then proceed to solve some pending trade and then he leaves. He takes the main avenue of downtown, goes to the good neighborhood and a few moments later he has access to the highway BR 232.

      With moderate speed, it takes only fifteen minutes to get home. He keeps the car in the garage, approaches the door, uses the key to open it and inside the house goes to the kitchen and arriving at the place takes the lunch ready. Heat the food in the stove and feed in a hurry so much his hunger. At the end of lunch, he will take care of domestic and site activities for the rest of the day. Early on, he decides to sleep.

      On the other following days, the routine is repeated. Despite being completely normal, his life had changed from head to toe after the tragedy. He lived only from work to home, away from friends, from religiosity and from himself. Anyway, he did not believe in anything anymore.

      Psychologically, Philliphe was devastated, sunk in an endless desert. At every moment he wondered: What sin had he committed to fall into such misfortune? Why had not God spared his family? What would he do with his life now that he was alone? Were there any possibilities for recovery?

      No matter how much time passed, he could find no solution to his problems and the loneliness that beat in his chest ever stronger. He was living in a very dense night where there was only despair.

      Forward, warrior, do not give up!

      Time advances a little more and Philliphe's mental state is the same: He could not cope with the drastic changes in his life. Even aware that nothing could change, his unconscious was uncontrollable and spoke louder. It was part of his personality and was intrinsically linked to the influences of his Maktub.

      It was there that something interesting and unusual occurred: On the date that he had completed six months of the tragedy, searching the internet after dinner he found a website of a publisher and a book that really caught his attention because it specifically dealt with a theme that was a bit the desert life of feelings and hopes that lived in the present moment. The title was "The dark night of the soul" and the author was called Aldivan Teixeira Tôrres. Instigated, he decided to buy the book, making the registration on the website and after all procedures he printed the ticket because it would be a good opportunity to learn and travel a little enriching his knowledge and who knows how to help him wake up a little. That was the bet.

      He continued to surf the internet a bit, including social networks, news sites, soccer, chat in chat rooms, listening to music and researching a little to help in his daily life in his profession. However, even when the browsing session was over, the question of the book did not leave his head.

      Tired from the day he'd actually been run, he headed for the bedroom to sleep. He approached the bed and before going to bed, he remembered the ticket he had printed. He kept it in his purse so he would not forget to pay it the other day. After the act, he finally relaxed.

      The night followed, the dawn arrived, and around six o'clock in the morning, Philliphe finally woke up. As usual, he got up quickly, stretched himself, went to the bathroom, showered, went back to his room, he changed into clean clothes and a brown suede shoe he had bought, he went to the kitchen and got there, made eggs with bacon, stuffed the bread adding curd. Then he ate some fruit and was satisfied.

      He brushed his teeth, washed his face, went to the bathroom to defecate, and at the end of the act, he approached the kitchen sink and washed his hands. As he was vain, went to the bedroom and next to the mirror of his wardrobe huge clothes, took care of the last details, which included the treatment of the face with creams, use of fine perfume with fragrance of roses, and finally comb the hair that was a little hissing.

      Ready! Now he could go to the garage, pick up his big car, and go to work on his beloved Arcoverde. And that's what he does. Despite his discontent with life, he had always been responsible with his commitments and work was not a choice, but a matter of necessity.

      Facing the normal traffic on the BR 232 lane and in the urban area of the city, he finally reaches work after fifteen minutes of effort. With great education, he enters the institution and wish a good day to all his work colleagues. Not all are reciprocal, but it does not matter. He had already done his part.

      He starts with his bureaucratic work and when asked, leaves with the team. With great professionalism and competence, stands out in the crowd. He was to be congratulated for its integrity and honor always tested.

      At the end of eight o'clock, he hit the point and walk away. As usual he will deal with other personal issues in banks, financial institutions, lottery houses, shops, etc. He pays the ticket for the book and then finally goes home.

      This time, he finds a congested traffic, but nevertheless he arrives in time at home to take care of the domestic and site pending. Now he was alone and absolutely everything was on his back.

      At night, he still has time to access the internet and check the payment confirmation of the book on the website. Now all that remained was to wait and find out what Aldivan Teixeira Tôrres, the seer, wanted to go through with it.

      While dreaming of the arrival of the book, he went to sleep at about 11:00 p.m. One more day fulfilled in a solitude and deep incomprehension.

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