I died, in the middle of the city, in the street, on the asphalt. Some say I was killed. I was just an ordinary citizen. Maybe my most undesirable and most unacceptable quality was my age. I was young. I was 27. On that day, it was announced on television that ‘they’ wanted to spray the city with poison. People were whispering in small gatherings here and there, asking each other what could this mean. But as always, no one knew the answer. People in my city were used to strange incidents and though alarmed would wait patiently. I have never understood when and for what reason we became separated and it became ‘us’ and ‘them. We became the ‘enemy’; that is what they called us and that is why they blocked the city gates to us, even though we were all citizens of the city! When I left my body and my soul flew over the city towards the sky, I felt I was finally free, free and with much to say. Death had freed me from the spell of the city, my beloved city. Yet, strangely there was nothing remained to be said. The spell, the addictive talismanic spell, greys and dusty, it made me high. I would become creative and would make underground art! Who was it who pointed the canister at me? People were taking it easy. Everyone was smiling. They were trying to let go. As if they had become insane It was some months ago that many citizens were disappeared. No one knew what it was that happened to them. But you know, after some questions, gatherings, shouting and crying .it turned out that we must wait. Until god knows when! The boy, our neighbor, was among the disappeared. The one I was in love with! The one who was in love with me! Every day I was calling an unknown telephone number. They would say: ‘There is no news from him yet madam, call later’. I would buy flowers instead and would go to the tombs of the dead, the disappeared citizens from the war...