for some strange reason I was looking down at the street, the pieces of Tel Aviv that haven’t been swept up yet – glass,   crumbs of old buildings,  the uneven sidewalks patched up from bombs.  Some people are still wearing their running shoes – maybe because that’s all they have, or perhaps they need shoes to run to shelter.  But I also saw the feet of couples all dressed up, ladies in high heels like in the old days, on their way to a play or a concert, or perhaps an elegant dinner.   A few couples were sitting in the sunken garden before the Habima theater, underneath where they had been living off and on for many months.  

I wasn’t in the mood to talk to people, except those we had gon to see, so I didn’t look up and around, but I know that if I did, I’d meet old friends and maybe we’d talk about what they’ve been doing for the past years of war.  

It’s going to take me time to warm up.