Chapter 7
LaylaThe Alborz
January 2001
The chalet was made of wood; a pitched roof, three
bedrooms, a large sitting room with a fireplace, a dining room, and a
balcony wrapped around. It was a short drive from the ski resort in
Dizin.
It was dusk when we arrived, the birds fluttering in the
shadows of the trees. I dropped my bag by the door and went out onto the
balcony.
Snow was spread like icing over the mountains and vales,
and the river glittered in the gorge. Wisps of cloud melted into the violet
haze of the setting sun. My uncle loved this view. We had spent many an
evening, him and I, watching the light change and the night settle on the
range. Up here, I felt close to him; he was in the rolling hills and the
stretch of sky, in a way that he was not in Tehran.
That n
