Mr. Reda laughed and looked at Zahraa as she went to school.

Zahraa could not bear to wait. She now found an isolated corner away from the eyes of the students. Zahraa opened the box and there was a white, pink cloak inside.

Ten minutes passed since Zahraa arrived at the alley but there was no news of the strange man. He used to go to school on this day. Zahraa’s steps began to slow down as she went to school. Zahraa had felt a strange feeling towards that strange man in the past few days. She had finally found the right uncle for her. Since her father’s death three years ago, she had never opened her heart to a man. Now she knew Mr. Reda very well.

The last class bell rang. She quickly packed her books in her bag and made her way home in a hurry. She reached the head of the alley. What was all this crowd doing in this alley?

Green-edged papers hanging on the wall… and a commotion… and one of them hugging the other bitterly.

(We belong to Allah and to Him we shall return…)

A picture of a man with a handkerchief around his neck… was very familiar to Zahra

“Mr. Reza Karimi has passed away after 13 years of suffering and the funeral will be at exactly ……….”

The world went black in Zahra’s eyes…

Her eyes filled with tears and she looked again at the picture… It was that same strange man…

The (Jannat al-Zahra) cemetery was now crowded with people. There was no one left in the cemetery who did not know who Mr. Reza was. Children between the ages of 10-12 and even 20 were scattered here and there wearing mourning clothes and everyone who saw them knew how sad they were for the loss of a loved one. Many women gathered around the grave and were shouting and crying loudly, but until the mourning ceremony was over and the people dispersed, no one knew who was the girl in the white, rose-colored cloak sitting near the grave and quietly shedding her tears…

[1] The rose-colored or patterned cloak is the well-known Iranian cloak with plant patterns. The story is published in the Iranian magazine (Talash), issue 69.