It was just like in my dreams. A huge building with walls made of white marble. I could hear the waves crashing at its foundation. There were no doors in the room we were in, only arch-like passages. The breeze rustled with the white curtains and swayed them in the air like flower petals. It took me a second until I realized the material from which the walls were made was not marble or anything I had ever seen before. Still, it felt familiar. It felt like my mother would rush inside any minute from one of these passages and take me into her embrace, and finally, her wide smile would soothe all my pains and sorrows. I had somehow submerged into a past which I remembered with my soul – one where I was a little happy girl whose world would never crumble to ashes.
But I wasn’t little Ari. She
