Syrian Road Warrior
I sped along the highway northbound to Lattakia. I was dealing again. A hundred minutes of driving back and forth for a five-minute meeting. I had to shake hands, twice. I counted my fingers each time afterward. As the sun dipped in the sea, I rolled the windows down and a westerly breeze condoled my senses. I headed home for an urgent shower.
I don't get on the road just for the sake of making a living. In fact I brushed work away, jumped in my car and headed to Kadmous (elev. 1000 m & 60 km to the northeast of Tartous). I had to drive a little fast to make it on time for the funeral. The cheerful vibrant girl everybody liked in the office lost her father. As the progression to the lonely graveyard slowly moved forward I felt overwhelmed by the beauty of the country and the people. Rest in peace old man, I hope heaven is as beautiful as the village where you lived and died.
I left my car in an underground garage as soon as I reached
A brief and exhilarating encounter in a quiet restaurant made me swell with delight of my
I rest assured that I am here to stay long after I am gone. I once taught the whole world how to read and now I glibly write, using the same words I've invented millennia ago, how simple it is to love a mountain or a vineyard like a father or a child. I roam