A white-haired woman stood on a balcony of one of the high-rise buildings, the wind tugging at the blue gown she wore. Holding onto a black railing, she slowly lowered herself to one knee and placed her fist over her thin chest. Her head bowed as the wind whipped her snowy hair. On another balcony, a man with gray hair in a long, thick braid, did the same. And on the sidewalks… Men and women whose skin and bodies bore the signs of age lowered themselves to their knees, among those who stood. “Liessa!” a man shouted, slamming a hand against the sidewalk, startling me. “Meyaah Liessa!”
