Miramar

“Alexandria at last. Alexandria is the drop of dew, the whiff of a white cloud, the landing place of the ray washed by the water of heaven, and the heart of memories drenched with honey and tears. The huge, towering building stares at you like an ancient face, settled in your memory. You know it, but it looks at nothing indifferently, not recognizing you, like the peeling walls from the long period of moisture lurking within them. It overlooks the entirety of its structure on the headland planted in the Mediterranean, its sides covered with palm trees and date palms, then extending from remote roads where hunting rifles crackle in the seasons. The strong, fresh air almost undermines my thin, arched stature, and there is no serious resistance like in the past days. Mariana, my dear Mariana, I hope you are in your historical stronghold… and peace be upon my world. There is little left, and the world is remembered in a strange image to the weary eye shaded by a hairless white eyebrow. Here I am, returning to you at last, Alexandria.” He pressed the doorbell of the apartment on the fourth floor. The door handle opened. The door handle opened for us. Mariana has changed a lot, my dear. She wouldn’t have recognized me from the dark hallway. Her dazzling white skin and golden hair glowed under the light from a window inside. “Miramar Pension? Yes, sir! I want an empty room.”