When the Garmon player started performing Havah Nagilah, the real wedding had begun. The young men held hands and began to dance around the bride and the groom, their tattered flat soled shoes weightless in the rhythm of the music. The young women surrounded the men, the childhood dresses of their mothers flowing on their hips as if in pace with the wind. They moved in a constant circle, occasionally stepping forwards or backwards to greet and lift up the chairs of the seated bride and groom. They drank cheap wine and laughed as if tomorrow were non-existent.

The largest smile was visible on Rose’s rounded face, reaching from each of her knowledgeable brown eyes. Her light brown hair and golden starred necklace danced in the wind like the Ner Tamid on a holiday night.

She had celebrated her twentieth birthday just weeks before and the village had been pestering her about marriage ever since. Even her own mother had threatened that if Rose did not marry soon, she would be forced out of the house until she showed up with a man next to her. For this reason, Rose promised herself that she would introduce herself to every semi-decent looking man attending the wedding.

As was customary, the whole little village was asked to attend the wedding. It was located in the town square, which consisted of little more than a rectangular alley with one to two food stalls and a selection of small, degrading houses surrounding it. Yet for Rose, weddings like these were where she truly found enjoyment–where she truly lived.

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When the newlywed couple was forced to give a speech to the crowd, they announced that they had just purchased visas and were moving to America. Although everyone applauded, Rose knew that like her, all the town's members wished to trade places with the couple and live safe American lives.

As time passed by and night drew closer, the air began to chill. Men and women clung to each other, attempting to do what their tattered and worn clothes could not. Shivering, Rose walked up to a young man whom she had danced with during the wedding. He stared into the distance, appearing to be unaffected by the vigorous chill that the other towns members were facing.

“Shalom” she called.

He continued to look off in the distance uninterested with any forms of interaction.

“Shalom.”

“Oh! We met at the dance! You’re a really good dancer by the way! What’s your name? Wait! I don’t think I introduced myself! I’m Rose-”

“Rose…” He responded, his eyes still fixed on something in the distance, “Rose. You talk too much. It’s going to get you killed.”

Shocked, Rose turned towards him, but his eyes were still far from the present.

“What do you mean it’s going to get me killed? I have lived here my entire life. This is a safe place. We are safe!”

“Nowhere is safe for us,” he answered, angling his head to look directly into Rose's eyes. His brown eyes were wise and sagacious, as if an ocean of knowledge swam below his dark black pupils. Through seeing him, one would think that he had observed the greatest sights in the world–or maybe the most horrifying.