April 7th

I’ve never lived in a Kibbutz, but my family often talked about it. I always wanted to try it. I imagine it looks something like this.

It started to rain a bit, so I decide to sit down for a while until it passes. Maybe I’ll read.

I walk over to the collection of books. One in particular – clean, white cover with a slightly tacky cursive font, but a beautiful image of a girl, young seeming, drawn as if a ghost in motion. I take it to read.

The title is Wie kommt das Salz ins Meer?. My German is still really bad (I only speak Yiddish), but I think it’s asking how the salt came from the Sea.

I’m mostly uninterested in the question. But the image – I think she knows I’m here. She asks where I’m going. I say that I’m not sure. We stare at each other in silence.

Somehow, I think we agreed on something. I put her down and attend to the emptiness of the rain.