Chapter 31 – The Night of Images
Night fell heavily on the neighborhood, but inside Salimo, the silence was inhabited by voices and images. Lying in his simple corner, he gazed at the dark ceiling as if it were a movie screen. There, scenes from his visit to Quinta Nicy paraded by: the yards full of chickens, ducks, turkeys, quails, and pigeons; the incubators pulsing with life in eggs that promised a future; the feed mixing machine working like the heart of independence; the sweet smell of mangoes and pineapples transformed into pulp; the carrots and cabbages washed and carefully packaged; the freezers storing food for tomorrow; and, finally, the young people on bicycles and motorbikes leaving through the gate, carrying boxes as if carrying hope.
Each image was not just a memory—it was a promise. It seemed to him that the night wind was whispering in his direction: “This too can be yours.”
His body begged for rest, but his mind refused. It was as if something inside him had awakened and there was no way to put it back to sleep. He felt restless, not with fear, but with anticipation. The invisible street boy, so often forgotten, now discovered there was a place where even he could fit, grow, and dream.
Salimo closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to sketch the future. And the more he thought, the more he realized: that night was not for sleep, but for seeds.
You Can: When the heart begins to sow images of the future, rest gives way to plans.
