If I had started my story from the first completed tale in my memory, it would have given a bad impression of me or my father. Therefore, I will start it with Umm Hussein, the resident of the house from which the sun shines. Its bright light blinds me from seeing the interior details of her room in the morning. But in the succulents, she precedes me to it, and spreads herself on the room and its walls, yellow, calm in color, like a morning light that lights the way for someone awake in the darkness.