I wrote this short thought/story on November 25, 2007 As I was leaving Damascus behind me, the city that always has promises of love and tenderness, I try to read my book, and I all could see in front of me are your eyes; soft tender in the morning light and conversation. I think of my life as the heroin of my book is getting a facial. And then from the speaker to my right I hear “ah ya lilee, ya hudn el sahara. Let the sun shine over our path, and promise us life, and that you’d take us to happiness." And I smile large and I can hear your voice now, generous, encouraging, and comforting. And I miss you. My friend.