Letters to Adam: #1 - In Baltia

 Letters to Adam: #1 - In Baltia

Photo by Markvin on Pixabay

 

Dear Adam,

As promised, I have traveled day and night to reach this small town, and here I am at last. You know - of course - that I cannot refer to it by its true name, but you will understand, I think, if I name it anew: Baltia. It is everything I dreamed it would be - quaint and small, but the people as mysterious and tight-lipped as we were warned. But I am close, here, to what I seek. I can sense it.  

It was no easy feat to secure lodgings in a town suspicious of even the most unassuming visitor, but I was able to pay my way into an inn when I parted with one of my amber prayer beads. Amber, it seems, is a desirable stone here. I have replaced it with an earring for the present, but I will admit it was disheartening to let go of such a piece. 

There is a mosque here in Baltia, Adam, and it must be the one your books told of. It is older now, and perhaps not quite as grand as it was in the days of its prime, but it stands a regal figure in its little plot of land, and is noble in its simplicity. I had not the time to explore it when I arrived at Baltia, for the sun was setting and it seemed prudent to find a place to lay my head to rest first. And that - as you now know - was no trifling matter. 

At supper I went downstairs from my room to be met by half a dozen pairs of eyes, staring at me in a most disagreeable fashion. I do not think these people share our notions of lowering one's gaze, but I felt quite vulnerable and exposed. I did not allow such trivialities to stop me, however, and took a place beside a woman who was seated alone. The woman yclept Lina was quite kind to me. We spoke of the mosque, and she told me that it is not open to visitors, much to my disappointment. However, she has promised to speak to her uncle, who takes care of the mosque grounds, in hopes that he might allow me passing into the mosque. She does not know what I seek, but believes that I simply wish a place to pray, which I would not decline.

The flame of my candle dwindles ever weaker as it nears its end, so I must end this letter here. I hope you are not angry with me, dearest one, and that you'll forgive my hasty departure. I would have told you, but I knew you would stop me. You understand, don't you, how important this is to us? To everyone at home? I must do this. No one else will.

Faithfully,

Farah


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A story of discovery and mystery, Letters to Adam is written in a collection of letters sent from the narrator and protagonist, Farah, to a man called Adam. More to be uncovered in later letters.





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