"Good morning, miss. You see, I’m promoting books in this area. Would you be interested in looking at a few catalogs? May I show them to you?"

The man switched his briefcase to the other hand, adjusted his bow tie, and flashed his most captivating smile—the smile of a professional salesman, yet also that of a seducer. Standing before him was a stunning young woman in her thirties, leaning against the doorframe; she wore a pair of shorts—extremely short ones—and an open top that left little, if anything, to imagination. Red stiletto heels completed her outfit.

The woman looked him up and down, and, flashing a broad, mischievous smile, said:

"Come in. Come in, sir. We’ll be more comfortable on the sofa. That’s where you can show me those catalogs... the ones you mentioned."

The young woman turned and headed toward the living room down a long hallway, with the salesman following close behind. From that, her figure was even more striking; the shorts—if such a skimpy garment could even be called shorts—left her backside almost entirely exposed, swaying with a hypnotic rhythm: one-two; one-two; one-two...

The man marveled at his good fortune. Use to having no one open the door and receiving nothing but doors slammed in his face or rude replies, this looked very, very promising.

She sat down on the couch first and invited the salesman to do the same. She was no longer addressing him formally:

"Sit down," she whispered sweetly. "Sit here, beside me."

He obeyed and sat to her right, setting his briefcase on the floor. After looking at her once more, he began:

"First of all, allow me to tell you a little about the encyclopedia, our flagship product. Do you have one at home?"

"No."

"Have you ever considered buying one?"

"Well… I don’t know…"

"You see, an encyclopedia is a source of knowledge for the whole family. A reference work no home should be without. It is highly useful—I would even say essential—at every level of education, including, of course, the invaluable help it provides to young children."

"For example," he continued, "suppose your son comes home from school at five in the afternoon and tells you he has to prepare a report for the next day about… William the Conqueror, let’s say. Well, if you do not have an encyclopedia at home, you will have no choice but to rush to a nearby public library where you can look up the relevant information about him." He paused to straighten his bow tie. "It is winter, it is raining, it is cold… you have other things to do… but you will have no choice but to go. To make matters worse, you will find other parents there—the parents of your son’s classmates—who have come to look up the same information. The volume will be in use, and you will have to beg ‘Maggie’ to hurry because your son needs it too… In short, you will have lost the entire afternoon, taken only a few scant, hurried notes on the material you needed, argued with ‘Maggie,’ and come home irritated and flustered. Your son will have to stay up until the early hours finishing the assignment… and will still do a mediocre job. Do you see what I mean?"

"Yeah. Perfectly," she replied with her broadest smile.

"Well then, all of that would be much easier if you had an encyclopedia at home. Entirely your own and available twenty-four hours a day. Wouldn’t it?"

The woman did not answer, but wore an oddly satisfied expression. She stared at him as though, instead, the salesman had paid her the greatest compliment imaginable. As though he had said something like: "How beautiful you are, miss! Not even the angels of heaven in all their glory could rival such magnificent, radiant beauty! Oh, Venus! Oh, Aphrodite! Oh, greatest and most beautiful goddesses of Olympus and of love! At last you have someone to compare yourselves to!"

The man was surprised by her reaction, but did not give it much thought. He picked up the briefcase from the floor, opened it, and began taking out several brochures.

"You see, this is the illustrated World Book Encyclopedia. It is one of the best in terms of quality and price."

"Illustrated?"

"Yes. With full-color illustrations. Allow me."

He then showed her the opening pages of the first volume, where the word "abacus" appeared. Nearly a page and a half was devoted to that single entry.

"Do you see?" he said, pointing. "In addition to the standard dictionary definition—‘an abacus is a frame with parallel rods or wires holding movable beads, used for counting and performing arithmetic calculations’—other meanings are also provided, such as ‘an architectural term for the uppermost part of a capital.’ Naturally, you can also find the word’s etymology, its semantic root, and, as you can see," he pointed again, "a history of the instrument from the most remote antiquity: how it was used in Egypt, in Rome… See here?" He pointed once more. "This is a photograph of a Roman abacus, specifically one preserved at the RGZ Museum in Mainz. What do you think?"

"Well… I don’t know…"

"It is a very comprehensive encyclopedia. There are twenty-four volumes, nearly one for each letter of the alphabet. Some entries are quite brief, like this one on the abacus, but if you look up ‘Willim the Conqueror,’ for example, you will find no fewer than twenty pages devoted to him. I’ll show you."

"No, there’s no need," she stopped him.

"You’re not interested?"

The woman assumed an air of indifference. In reality, she had barely glanced at the pages; instead, she had been watching him. And he, for his part, had tried to focus on the presentation—though, admittedly, it had been a struggle. Between sentences, he couldn't help but steal fleeting glances at her body, wondering if the top was too small—or if, perhaps, what was inside the bra were simply too large to be contained by such a skimpy garment.

"They are very comprehensive books," he continued, trying to stay focused, "and of course, you can pay for them in convenient installments. They are extremely useful for schoolwork. Do you have children?"

"Me?" she asked, looking at him with a sly, knowing air. "Do I look like a woman who’s had children?" She ran a hand over her waist.

"Well, actually... no," the man admitted, his gaze tracing the curves of her body. "Anyway," he continued, "what do you think? Are you interested in this encyclopedia?"

She flashed the same smile she had worn at the entrance, and after staring at him intently for a few seconds, she said:

"You see, what I’m interested in is... something more powerful."

"Ah! Then I can recommend Britannica. Are you familiar with it?"

"No."

"It is the largest and most comprehensive encyclopedia of all. It has 120 volumes!"

"But isn’t it very big?" she smiled at him. "Do you think something that big… will fit?" She pursed her lips and then slightly pouted them outward.

The man looked a bit flustered, but he quickly composed himself.

"Don’t worry about the size... It is big, yes, but…" —he looked her up and down again— "…I think there’s more than enough room for it here."

"Really? How big is it?" The young woman stuck out her tongue and slid it gently across her upper lip.

The salesman let out a sharp breath. He was starting to feel a flush of heat that made it hard to think clearly. He made an effort to focus and continued: "You see, when you purchase the encyclopedia, we also include an oak bookcase where you can arrange all the volumes conveniently. You could place it… there," he said, pointing to an empty section of wall large enough to hold it.

He then made a move to take out the Britannica brochures but stopped. That woman didn't seem interested in anything other than him. Besides, was he imagining things, or did she keep running her tongue smoothly from left to right while looking at him with that suggestive expression?

"We also sell Jacques Cousteau’s encyclopedia of the underwater world," he said with a sigh, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief and loosening his bow tie. "If you buy it, we include a collection of classical music cassettes and recordings of ocean sounds. It is a popular encyclopedia and quite affordable. You will also receive, free of charge, a set of videotapes—one for each volume—with recordings of the famous television program. Depending on the system your player uses, you may choose VHS, Beta, or Video 2000. What do you think?"

The woman looked at him again with that mischievous expression and replied:

"Well... what interests me... is love."

"Ah! I also have the complete works of Barbara Cartland—all of her novels. You must have read at least one of her books, haven’t you, ma’am?"

"But… don’t call me ‘ma’am’," she said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Call me Lucky," she whispered, bringing her face close to his while pursing her lips and pouting them outward. Those full, red-painted lips—a deep red, a "passion" red.

"Lucky?"

"Lucretia. But you can call me Lucky." She ran her index finger across the salesman’s lips. The man was about to explode.

"Miss, I feel as though I know you from somewhere. Is that possible?"

"Lucky, please."

"Lucky. Yes, of course," he corrected himself. Customers were always right and had to be accommodated, even though the publishing house insisted they should always be addressed formally. "The truth is, you look very familiar… Lucky. Haven’t we met before?"

"Where?" she asked, intrigued.

"Do you ever walk through the pastureland?"

"Me, in the pastureland? In that heat?"

At that moment, a dog appeared and began sniffing the man.

"Toby!" the owner exclaimed irritably. "Go back to your spot! Come on!"

The dog obeyed with its head lowered and went back the way it had come, returning to the terrace. The woman stood and closed the door so it could not come back in.

As she stood up—while the man remained seated on the sofa—it struck him, viewing her from behind, that her buttocks looked larger and more "powerful" than when he had first seen it. Her waist, by contrast, seemed increasingly narrow.

"Don’t worry…" she said, reaching out her hand as she sat back down beside him, as if about to ask his name.

" Alder."

"Don’t worry, Alder. That mutt won’t bother us anymore." She moved even closer and placed a hand on his knee.

His heart was pounding, and he didn’t know whether to make a move on the girl right then or continue acting like the professional expected of him. After weighing the options for a moment, he made a gesture as if to pull more brochures from his briefcase.

"I don’t want you to show me any more brochures," she said, stopping him. "What I’d like is for you to show me… something else."

At that moment, she placed a hand on his crotch and tugged at one of the strings of her top; it instantly came undone and slipped off her body. Next, she removed her shorts, leaving her wearing nothing but her shoes—those red stilettos.

Then, he could resist no longer and succumbed to temptation. Unable to hold back, he stripped off his clothes too and lunged at the girl...

And just as he was about to consummate that blatant act of adultery—with both of them embracing each other on the sofa, and the briefcase and brochures scattered across the floor—Dorothy appeared in the room.

"Alder, my husband, why are you doing this to me? Huh? Do I not offer myself to you just as this brazen hussy has?" She glanced at the girl. "Do I not also undress before you, only for you to reject me?"

The salesman immediately scrambled to his feet. He began searching for his clothes around the sofa when, suddenly, a histrionic, cavernous laugh rang out from the spot where he had just stood. When he turned around, Lucretia was no longer a woman, but a devil. A black, dark, and sinister devil that looked at him with disdain—with profound contempt—wearing a look of victory and a triumphant smile; and then, Alder was dragged down into the depths of hell, never having even managed the pleasure of fully having his way with the girl.

There, in that place of fire and torment, he not only burned; a swarm of demons, howling like starving wolves, descended upon him, sinking long, sharp, filthy, and venomous claws into his chest, neck, thighs, back, arms, and face—tearing into his skin to flay him alive...

And at that moment, he woke up.

He sat bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat and dripping, while his ragged, gasping breath struggled to draw the air he lacked.

He leaped up and opened one of the house’s windows, trying to stick his head through the bars. He opened the door and stepped outside to cool off. Judging by the outdoor light, it had to be at least eight in the evening. Mass! he realized when he noticed the time. He checked his wristwatch, and it read six. How strange…

He held the old Festina watch his wife had given him so many years ago to his ear. Its crystal was so scratched that he could barely read the time. Sure enough, there was no ticking. The watch had stopped…

He usually wound it at noon, when he got up, but he had not done so that day. At that hour, he had been trying to fall asleep, because nightmares like the one he had just experienced kept battering and tormenting him, refusing to let him rest.

He went back inside and switched on the radio-cassette player. The batteries were nearly dead, and even the radio was barely audible. Besides, it was no longer time for Mass. It had to be at least nine, and Mass was over. The clock in the sitting room confirmed it when it chimed. Although the hands fell back whenever they reached twelve, the chimes still worked properly: clang, clang, clang, clang… nine times.

The thing was, he had opened his eyes around eight, but his wristwatch showed six, so he had gone back to sleep thinking there were still two hours before Mass. For days, that had been the only thing he could listen to on the old 1970s radio-cassette player that somehow still worked. But of course, without batteries… there was little he could do.

"Oh, God!" he cried. "When will this torture end?"

The nightmare played out vividly before his eyes, with a naked Lucretia inciting him to lust. A sharp, intense pain pierced his stomach; he took the scourge from the drawer and removed his shirt, but just as he was about to begin flagellating himself—to deliver the lashes—he looked at the crucifix, and Christ spoke to him:

"Enough, Alder. You must save your strength for a very hard trial that I will send you soon. If you overcome it, this stage will soon pass, and everything will come to an end."

"Very… hard?"

"Yes. But I will give you the strength you need to face it. You need only have faith and pray…"