"What’s up with you", he asks, "so there will be a section of the wall or a checkpoint you haven’t seen"
"Don’t make a big deal out of it, Baqa is real close"
"Okay, but we’re taking my care. I’m embarrassed to ride in your jalopy. People know me there."
"Fine, you know I hate driving anyway"
"And you can also dress normally, those pants are awful"
"You’re full of complaints today, like a pomegranate"
As an afterthought, Karim says: "Pomegrante wasn’t just now, was it, it doesn’t belong to Passover, right?"
"Right. Any further objections?"
"Yes. I know the past six months haven’t gone too well and that you were aggrevated, but those extra four pounds are uncalled for."
"I think it’s more than four"
"Yes, but I like you. Come I’ll show you a house that touches the wall, I know the family. I’m a real asset to any lefty, aren’t I?"
The wall at Baqa. Children coming home from school. Yesterday, 1:30pm.
Behind the wall – the balconies of Nazlet Abu Nar.