Chapter I. Leaves

The neighborhood’s children stood in one of the alleys of the old city of Hebron in Palestine, not far from the Ibrahimi Mosque, where the prophets of God Ibrahim, Isaac, and Jacob and their wives took place, watching sarcastically this 30-Arab guy, their faces are filled with the childish laughter of taunting. This weirdo, who for four hours has been standing in front of the olive tree, busy with something important, moves his fingers on the leaves, puts a ribbon on a branch, and moves on to the next one.

For days, Mousa regularly repeated this scene, standing for hours in front of olive trees, choosing the largest, and tirelessly, starts counting its leaves.

The neighborhood did not understand what was wrong with him! A young, stable, intelligent, brown-skinned, tall, muscular young man who spends most of his time between his work and the bodybuilding club, is engaged, has a close marriage, is professionally successful, and an employee of a prestigious public relations company. If he talks, he convinces, and if he stays silent, learns.

Suddenly he went into his isolation, locked himself in his door, and could hardly be seen.

Months later he began to come out, pale, exhausted, tired as if he had been in his isolation for a thousand years. Everything was frayed but his muscles, like he owns a bodybuilding club in his house.

He may have been possessed by demonic possession, standing for hours and hours doing nothing but counting the leaves! Whisper softly and decisively, I will use up all that you have left, I am the master here. Are you in pain? Then obey me!

After many hours, standing for a moment, oh I forgot! Where did I get on the count! Why did you forget? Screw you, are you messing with me?

And then he unraveled all the ribbons, and he starts all over again. This time no ribbons, “In addition to the number of leaves you will remember all unmarked branches. We will see which of us is hardheaded and more stubborn. “