Everything was so strange. I arrived and I saw them in front of me, I ran to kiss them, and as I go towards them they suddenly disappear, I couldn’t see them anymore. I was sure I had seen them, that they had been right in front of me, but suddenly - nothing. As if they had never been there. I looked to my right, to my left, in front, behind, but nothing. No one. A Muslim woman with a headscarf and pants, apparently a Moroccan, was yelling at her two children, Yusuf and Zohra, and I remembered that the name of this unknown disappeared brother was Yosef, and I saw that the two, the two children looked so much like Israel when he was young, and the girl looked like Ruth, the younger darling child, the Ruth that now has a factory of children. She has six children already, more than the rest of the siblings together, a factory of grandchildren, and the grandparents are critical of her religion but they are very happy to have the grandchildren at home. The grandfather had died, and the grandmother kept helping, paying, watching the children, and all the rest, with that smile on her face and a critical face for me because I only have one child, and the others have two or three per family, like everyday Europeans, a child and a dog, and a Mercedes, that's the dream.
