Was it a dream? From my window I could see Moshe and Mustafa arguing. They were standing in front of the most magnificent house in town. The house had been designed by a renowned architect and built flawlessly by master carpenters using the most exquisite materials. Funny, from this distance – Moshe and Mustafa looked so similar, you could really only discern who was who by Moshe’s kipa and Mustafa’s kafiya.
They were arguing over the ownership of the house. Each claimed that it was his. As they argued people gathered behind each of the men. There were lawyers with copies of official deeds to the land. There were politicians and negotiators and rabble rousers shaking their fists and making their case. And then I saw the smoke. The house was on fire. Mustafa and Moshe didn’t notice, the crowd in their intense fury did not notice. The house burned and burned until nothing was left of its beauty and grandeur. All that was left were its smoldering ashes. Was this a dream? Was this a nightmare?