I am disappointed because we didn’t bring the camera with us, but eventually, I get over it. We take a brief stroll in the evening under the shiny-twinkling rows of night lights to clear our ears. We slowly regain our recently obtained peace, and we start enjoying the warm night breeze, the sounds, the colors, and the smells again.
March 8, Thursday
Day eight
The beautiful, young receptionist, Remia, gently runs her graceful, jeweled fingers through her daughter’s oiled hair. She must be about seven years old, and they review her homework together with a morning coffee on the large terrace. The sun is already shining. A mother’s lovingly caressing gaze is the same everywhere.
We are on the go again. Selva is behind the wheel, his shirt crispy ironed as usual; however, we suspect that h
