SHEATHED HOPE (STORY) sits in the dining room table and review the list again, so do not forget anything. Two photos 5x5 with white background size. The decision between his fingers and there is ridiculous, in a suit and tie, trying to show with your term safety and suitability expected but now seems more an expression of a convict newcomer to the police station. "The pictures should be glued to the road? "Stapled or annexed with a hook? Maybe it's better if they are loose inside the envelope yellow. Just in case take a hook and rubber to decide the next morning.
Now the form. Check point by point. Tinkling with his pen the words believed to have been barely legible, it can be provided for misinterpretation and that's the last thing you want. Reread the questions and feel that some answers may be wrong. "Mal? Yes, as in school exams in which the questions were made especially for the unwary to fall and not to measure how deep they had nailed the words of the teacher in the student's head.
sighs and takes thousands of copies, certificates and justifications, all signed by strangers who should inspire confidence, if not him, at least that would make a researcher looking stains on the white paper. The decision in their hands and carefully organized, striking vertically on the table cloth fabric before putting them back on the yellow envelope. Check the paper with the time of the appointment, written on that sheet pile eternal square next to the phone. He raises his head to see the clock wall, which marks more than the average night, and decides to try to sleep.
The next day, gets to place one hour before the above. He had slept little and took the first rays of sun to carefully choose clothing that would have to use. It took a long shower, shave and tested well before the mirror looking calmer than he knew. He said goodbye to his wife and children, who were still sleeping and left the house nervously playing with the coins in his pocket to pay for bus fare.
Upon arrival there were several distinct rows, groups of people who seemed lost sheep of the flock, while a guard at the time a shepherd dog who barked orders to align the sheep scared. Each one waiting for the moment to enter your yellow envelope, reciting hypothetical answers to questions not asked.
Once inside had no choice but to feel intimidated by the magnitude of the enclosure and the hundreds of security cameras watching him like little prying eyes. Well says the psychology of war that one way to break the spirit of the enemy is dazzled with the magnificence of his opponent. Again, more rows and seats which predicted the long wait. Surrounded windows with sparkling numbers, the hours passed and did not seem to get the time they would have to call one of the spaces to be excused and justified.
"629!", Heard a woman screaming in a shrill voice, "629!". Take a breath of fresh air in a heavy sigh and goes to the window with his yellow packet in hand. Approaches, and from within that tank whitish woman asked in broken English, to put the yellow envelope on a silver tray, almost clinical.
He rises, looks hopeful for a second, as if trying bless a relic, and puts it on the metal tray. The woman receives an oversight role and let them fall to the floor, where it emerged just as battered and over, while he feels to die. In this character, away across the glass, it matters little to have the world in their hands milky.
The embassy official empty the contents of the envelope, a couple of faces in front of the computer screen without looking at him and says, "Sorry. Visa denied. " Desktop Collect the papers, photos and hook, introduces the envelope and throws everything into a bowl clinical under a desk, while he, from outside, notice how your whole world is launched at the foot of this lady, trying to squeeze the most hope lost in the dustbin, along with the dreams of others.
He gets out of military-style building, defeated, broken soul a bit and lowers his head to look at his calloused hands, those who were not able to pick up your world when he fell to the floor and defend with honor. Those hands that now they only received a small tear that escaped the pride up. For its part, the staff takes a sip of cold coffee, yawn and think how boring it is this day, trying to ignore these poor, badly dressed, they are delivering their lives as if they were worth much. "630," he shouted shrill, "630!" And took a sip cup more.
