Last night I dream that I was in Beirut. Little papers fluttered from the sky all of a sudden. They looked so sweet and tender. I went to the ones which had fallen and pulled out my camera. As I took photos of them sprawled across the pavement, I noticed they had some writing. In big letters it read:
‘Bombs are coming. Run’
I think we all know where my brain is at a month before I embark on the trip I’ve been waiting for my whole life. For the first time I’ll be visiting the place of my ancestry, the country of my grandparents.
I’m so excited, nervous and completely irrational all at once.