Would you talk to me?
Just imagine I arrive at your home at midnight. You open the door, and we talk until 3am, sitting on the terrace. Suddenly, your phone rings downstairs. You go down to answer it. It's my family calling – to tell you that I passed away at 11pm, an hour before I even arrived. Would you come back to the terrace to talk to me? I read this in the status of my dear friend Fatma a couple of weeks back and found it a very fascinating thing to reminisce about. Here is my answer... I t is one of these summer nights where you are just enjoying your evening stroll in the warm breeze and are suddenly surprised by a heavy rainstorm out of nowhere. I had been busy all day and finished working late again, when I decided to go out for a walk around my neighbourhood to relax my mind and quiet my thoughts. I was already on my way back, when the first drops of rain started to fall. They trickled down my skin like small pearls of glass and for a moment I just stood there, face lifted towards the heaven...