As if we are in heaven

Author's name: Nadia Hashemi

I was six years old when she told me a little about her departure from Afghanistan and her arrival in the United States. She was walking me to kindergarten on a rainy day. How long does it take to fly from Afghanistan to America? Well, she left our house on a Tuesday, and when I arrived in America, it was a Wednesday. You were above the clouds all day? We stopped once to change planes, but, yes, you were above the clouds all day. How did you feel in the sky? Safe. In Afghanistan, I saw what people do to the land because everyone wants a piece of it. They destroy it, they divide it. And even when there’s nothing left, they still claim it. But the sky isn’t like that. It can’t be divided. What did America look like from the sky? My mother was still, as if she’d never heard a question like that before, and then she answered, “It looked like a dream.” A good dream? She let her broken umbrella fall beside her. Raindrops trickled down her cheeks. My question went unanswered, carried by a strong wind.