late entrance

after so long a time, I manage to publish my first blog.
This month is hectic in the Moishe house vienna. We all live in the fourth floor of an old building in the center of the Jewish quarter in Vienna. Our street is calles, Grosschifgasse, or the ''big ship''. In the 2nd floor there is an Iranian refugee synagogue, and the other one in the first floor, is always giving us new experiences, new people to meet, and exciting experiences.
I want to write here a little bit about ''arthur'', a lonely homeless who comes to visit the Iranian synagogue once in a while, for a drink, a little food and a small conversation with whoever agrees.
He#s short, wears second hand leather jackets and has a long and curious nose. He Always speaks very directly, not always easy to understand his speech, but sometimes something interesting and penetrating comes out of his mouth. He comes up to me and says, are you jewish at all? I say: yes. How do you know? My family is. What does it mean to you? Too long to talk about this right now.
He stares at me.
There were days I thought i was jewish, and it gave me the whole world. I thought we own everything. Now I know I'm just a common man going to the place where everyman goes, and staying at place where every man dwells.
Said and left the room to his endless journey.