She missed Safaa especially on the nights when the death squad fell from the sky on to our plants (which occurred on an almost daily basis), showing off the skull emblems on their chests. They were disturbed by our contempt for them, for attacking a house full of women watched over by a blind man and lying in wait for the wanted men who had evaporated into the sky over the city. They tore up the rose bushes, which were Marwa’s favourite flowers; like a madwoman, she ran from room to room, choked with tears and looking for somewhere slimy to shelter in, like a large snail.The first butterfly she caught had wings of mottled brown and honey. It reminded her of the visit to the hammam she had made before her wedding when women smothered her in bilun, henna and perfumed soap, threaded her body hair, and ran their hands over her skin to ensure its softness. She adored the lightness with which the butterfly flew, and she embalmed it with Radwan’s help; he loved the idea and laughed when she described its faded eyes and its mouth, which she likened to Safaa’s small mouth.
