The Avocados are not growing this year. The rain that arrived, came too late. It is stormy! in the nights, and it the morning - gone. Like it was a forbidden lover. The puddle the rain leaves behind stand under the bare sky. And the sun is watching from above the weather ups & downs, the Avocados that won't grow this year. Very soon, they will be torn off the tree, and will fall tired to the wet ground that has been betrayed this year, too.
And there is 'us'. The participation to the Election Day left us beaten.
The Campaign Billboards still supervises us from every corner, hang, flapping, worn out.
Maybe, like the Avocados they will fall tired to the ground?
Maybe.
In Beer Sheva, back home, hot meal still being served every lunch time.
It is almost March now. Purim is very soon.
