Purple Sea

It's a beautiful day.

The sun is bright.

The sea is sharp blue.

I let go of my sister's hand

and jump into the pond.

It's dark.

The smell of mud.

There is a strange sound.

Croak Croak

A frog jumps into the pond.

Croak Croak

A fish swims away.

Croak Croak

The frog jumps onto a leaf.

Croak Croak

A bird flies past.

Croak Croak

The frog catches a fly.

Croak Croak

The frog falls asleep on a tree.

Croak

A hand pulls me out.

I take a deep breath.

I cough.

Where am I?

Did I ever tell you about the pond?

I see you for the first time.

Istanbul is filled with demonstrations.

I don't understand what they're shouting.

Your shirt is gray.

A red star in your ear.

Maybe we would never have met in Syria.

Your invitation to Berlin.

I wonder why I don't take you to the airport.

I look you in the eyes.

I feel your kiss before you say goodbye.

It doesn't occur to me that I may not see you again.

You take the plane.

You come back.

You don't come back.

It's getting colder.

I can smell the snow.

Everyday I look at the photos you send.

I see us walking down the street in Berlin.

We drink coffee at this bar around the corner.

In the evening we go to the cinema.

I wonder.

Why you never take photos of people?

Or you just don't send them to me?

Any news?

How long do you have to stay at the refugee camp?

What are you doing right now?

Are you sleeping?

Are you thinking of me?

I learn German

and watch old Syrian soap operas on YouTube.

12 years earlier.

The family sits on the sofa.

We watch the green missiles over Iraq on television.

10 years later.

I watch the war in Syria on YouTube.

The missiles appear yellow.

Maybe the cameras are better today.

The camera records everything.

Snipers against demonstrators.

Run.

Grenades against bakeries.

Run.

Bombs against vehicles.

Run.

Missiles against homes.

Run.

Chemical weapons against everything.

Leave.

I dig a hole.

The hole is big.

All my bracelets fit in there.

In a hundred years someone will find them

and think they belonged to a queen.

The hole is getting deeper.

I fall.

I take my cat out of Syria.

We cross the border.

I meet you in Istanbul.

You fly to Berlin.

The cat looks for you everywhere.

Two years, they say.

At least.

Two years of waiting for my visa.

Two years of wasting time.

The connection is very bad.

I can barely hear your voice.

I'll come back, you say.

I want to say yes.

But back to where?

Istanbul?

Standstill?

Syria?

War?

I won't let you.

Do you understand?

I shout. I threaten.

I don't want you to come back.

I'll come to you.

Have you calmed down?

You know me.

I can't wait.

If I wait, I get sleepy.

I can't allow myself to sleep.

I must stay awake.

My legs become stronger.

I go to the gym and run on the treadmill.

Don't think.

Keep your legs moving

until you don't feel them anymore.

I empty the flat.

I sell my stuff.

I sell your stuff.

I keep the camera.

Do I really need a rope?

I meet the smuggler.

He is a film producer.

On the wall hangs a poster of a film

that won an award at the Cannes Film Festival.

On my way out, I meet a girl and her brother.

She asks me if I'm afraid.

I lie and say no.

Should I say yes?

I let the cat fall asleep.

I put it in a box.

The cat takes the plane to Berlin.

No visa required.

I'm ready now.

What time is it?

The bus drives fast.

Some people have to stand.

I don't know where I am.

I'm not allowed to open the curtains.

I'm not allowed to open the windows.

I can't breathe.

Can you track me by GPS?

Do you know where I am?

The sun rises.

I walk down the hill towards the shore.

The woman in front of me walks very fast.

Her sneakers look new.

I count the butterflies on her blouse.

She reminds me of a neighbour.

People hate her.