I pound on the invisible gates of Damascus in the pouring rain. Sobbing, I cry, “Throughout your history you’ve stood up proudly to invaders. You’ve taught me to be proud, too, and not to let myself be degraded by anyone. So why do you want to degrade me now? I should be able to come and go as I please, but instead you want to drag me along by the neck like a little dog. Treat me with love and respect, like the adult that I am, not like a child, or like a criminal who’s expected to prove her innocence!
“Hold me up, Damascus. I’m about to fall into the abyss! Hold me up, Ziqaq Al Yasmin, Umayyad Mosque, Church of St. Paul, Souq Al Sarouja… Hold me up, Mi’dhanat Al Shahm and Ziqaq Al Jinn, Hariqah and Lady Zainab, Qabratkeh, Souq Al Hamidiya, Al Salihiyah Road, Sheikh Muhyi Al Din, Sahat Al
