Olga… Was Waiting

Space, distance, road, crossing, and departure; the expanses of the desert, the ice of Russia, and the seasons of Istanbul; the sounds of ocean waves and the tranquility of the Bosphorus crossing; the social, tribal Bedouin culture and the remnants of shattered Soviet dreams; travel, learning, and the path; the tears of Baghdad and the sighs of Damascus; the remnants of Babylon as they blend with the sad silence of the Atlantic Mountains; and the laments of the city of Nouakchott in the African embrace as it looks and reads its lament for the state of a nation with scattered corners, penetrated by the global system, where lines of time intersect on the axes of multidimensional geography, and its most important features; The wandering, the loss, the questions, the waiting, and then the family. Olga, a lady of contradictions, penetrates cities and draws the smile of waiting on their landmarks. She is narrated by a mere passerby, who devours the stories of the road with his morning coffee and is stalked by fleeting encounters, embracing the creed of the traveler. He loves... but he loves nothing more than the wallet and what it carried of white papers and map lines whose data do not meet. What did Olga wait for, and how did crossing and leaving arrange the encounters?