Binaa

She was walking between the pomegranate trees, talking to someone in whisper. She looked around several times and then bent down and grabbed something between her shiny red shoes , hid it in her fist and put it in her pocket horridly. She looked around again and then smiled in relief. That day at 12 o’clock, on a hot and humid day, the day that she turned 6, she  whispered in the imaginary ears of a beautiful pink sea shell and named her friend  Binaa (the one who sees).

Just a few minutes later, as her mother called her name in the distance, she remembered that she had left her basket somewhere she could not remember and started to squint her eyes and look under the trees.

-Uh those damn eyeglasses she thought, I hate them and I need them to see, why is everything so hard? my life is too hard, I hate the glasses and I refuse to wear them.

Her mom called her again, she responded: coming mom , I’m coming! And pushed the branches away so that she can pass.

Aha there I knew it, she said as she rushed toward the big round glasses. As she let go of the branches in order to reach for the glasses, a big red pomegranate hit her in the head.  I hate these glasses, she said and tried to untangle her hair that was now stuck to the branches. She shook her hands in frustration, yanked at her hair , said a few ouches and put the glasses on. Her big brown eyes became even bigger and she thought to herself: now I look like a fly again, I hate this , why can’t I just see right?

When her mom called again, she had finally found the basket and was trying to get the dried sticky leaves out of her long curly hair. Her fingers and her face were sticky after eating few pomegranates and her hair was sticking to everything, So she decided to just forget about the leaves.

As she pulled the heavy basket behind her and struggled to lift it, she thought that it is worth the effort because the pomegranates were super sour this year. She paused, touched her pocket, gave out a long sigh in relief and said: You see Binaa, I should tell you that …there are two important things I want you to know, First that I hate these glasses, like ..a lot! , and second.. um …

Her mom was calling again and sounded angry , Sareh yelled: I’m here, I’m all done, It’s heavy

And then she continued:  yea .. what was I saying , yea, I love sour pomegranates with salt. I can eat like thousands of them .. um even bigger than my head.

She noticed her mom’s shoes..

-who are you talking to?

-Um to myself really, just me and myself talking to myself.

Her mom took the basket and left. She winked at Binaa.