Golan Heights, Tiberias Lake floating bridge
As Jonathan Ben-Joseph walked across the west end of the bridge, the sun had just risen directly above the lake.
The water was golden, the sky was blue, and the distant Tiberias City was white.
He stood at the bridgehead, squinting his eyes for a long time.
Sunlight he hadn't seen for twenty-five years stung his eyes, but he couldn't bear to close them.
Old Moses Levi was still holding that cup of water, the glass was empty, yet he still held it.
"Would you like another drink?" he asked.
Jonathan shook his head. "It's enough, one cup is enough."
The old man nodded, placing the glass on the bridge railing. The cup was plastic, the transparent kind, just a few cents at the supermarket. Sunlight shone through the cup walls, casting a round spot of light on the bridge surface.
"Have you been imprisoned for twenty-five years?" the old man asked.
