I want to rip it off and tell me every single mistake. I know that i've a problem with punctuation and i wish to learn how to do it. Notice that this is only the prologue of the book, so my lack of detail is intentional.
Chapter 1
I woke up at 7 am. A very good time for a seventy year old man like me. It's time in which you can see the quiet world that your fragile body and mind needs.
I walked some steps towards the window, opened it, and looked at the nile as it flowed slowly; cars wheeling on both sides of it.
I gazed at that square shaped patch faraway in front of the river. I smiled to myself and memories came back. In this patch I first stayed with Omar forty years ago. Here I got to know how good a man can be, and how loyal a friend can remain.
The morning cold air that brushed across the window, and stirred the memories in my head. The Memories that I strived to forget after I got married and began a new life. But the memories haunted me. They vowed to follow me like the shadow of a ghost.
It hasn't been very long since Samia died. Two weeks, I guess. If only I can touch her once again, I'd be grateful. For twenty three years we shared everything from our toothbrush to the oak bed on which I slept last night. The doctors said that cancer has taken over her body; it's late.
The funeral couldn't have been more morbid. It was a sunny day. As The sheikh began reading some verses from the Quran, I sauntered alone towards her grave with some of our neighbors gathering there. She had no friends; she was forsaken, like me.
After having some milk for breakfast, I collapsed on the sofa and opened the TV. I kept on changing channels. Nothing seemed to interest me in the Egyptian television. They're all silly people, I told myself. Lies, lies, and more lies.
My heart beat faster as I came across samia's favorite TV show, the Simpson's cartoon. We spent hours together on the same couch watching it. I can remember her contagious laugh that brought ecstasy and noise to our silent life.
Samia's only wish was a child girl. She wanted to call her Merriam, like her sister who died at age of 12. Her wish faded over time, till it became illusion, and the illusion became a lie. We could never have children, and I was the reason.
After praying El maghrb prayer, I pulled the swing chair and sat in front of the window.
The sun was leaving again. This red tinged sky seemed to bring back images from the past. The past that i abhorred. Still I can't control it.
I gasped loudly. My heart bumped against my chest, as if it was a locked prisoner who wanted to be free. Blood rushed through my veins and collided with my skull. Everything in me was in pain.
I swinged one last swing and fell back on the ground. My nose was bleeding and my hands were crumpled under my torso. I was dying.
But there's one last thing my mind offered before my death, and it was my life.
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