The Inducer

In those dreams she plays hand in hand with her son and her husband in that park. They have fun at a fair, but the sky starts to get dark. Black hands coming out of the ground pull Ismat and he cries out, "Mom!" but inevitably he is swept away by that mystery. Wake up sweaty. She sits down and looks at her watch: its three o'clock in the morning.

She remembers vaguely that the tablet must be loaded, so she goes for it and turns it on.

To her surprise, it wasn't blocked, so they started getting all of Ismat's messages in.

Lots of messages from friends. His Facebook page was full of condolences for his departure, its cause for more tears.

There are several chat bubbles: one said "Pons", the others did not recognize them. She went into the girl's room and started reading, surprised. In those conversations she discovered that the young people had died when Pons went to Paris to study Dance. They confessed their love and had a beautiful relationship through chat conversations. Ismat dedicated beautiful songs to her, she danced for him. The last few conversations, however, had a mixture of bitter uncertainty: her claims for the young man's carelessness. Sometimes it took many days to connect.

The young lady in that photograph had been left behind. Apparently the tattoo was temporary. On her Facebook profile she appears renewed, fresh. His oriental features gave her a unique personality, stylized, thin but not malnourished. She looked pretty good.

Certain conversations in the last few days before Ismat's death had shown that the young man had taken a strange attitude. The claims were many.

Yeri sees the green dot going: Pons is connected. A curiosity invades him, so he writes.

- Hello.

It takes about 25 seconds.

- Who are you? What are you doing with the Ismat account? Respect the dead.

- I am…

- I don't like this, it's sinister. Please stop using Ismat's account, let the dead rest.

- Did you love him?

- If you continue I will denounce you; what is more, I will block you.

-Wait, I'm.... Wait, don't block me.

He didn't have time, it was late.

The young lady complied and did the blockade. She could no longer see any publication of it from the Ismat account.