Behind the wall

I did not quite connect with Noor, as I felt there was a gap between us because she did not master the Arabic language as well as I did, so we did not communicate as I liked and wished. I asked my mother to leave, but she asked me to wait a little while until Grandma Umm Imad picked some of the date palm leaves and bunches of grapevines for us so that my mother could cook our favorite dish of stuffed grape leaves. I reluctantly returned under the fig tree, sat down, and was filled with gloom. Since that day, I have not met Noor and have not visited Umm Imad’s house.