“I wander over to the computer desk and sit down. I think of the field in Aleppo before the fire, when the bees hovered above the land like clouds, humming their song. I can see Mustafa taking a comb out of a hive, inspecting it closely, dipping a finger into the honey, tasting it. That was our paradise, at the edge of the desert and the edge of the city.
I look at my face on the dark screen, thinking of what to write — Mustafa, I believe I am unwell. I have no dreams left.”
―
Christy Lefteri,
The Beekeeper of Aleppo