My name is Anna.

I am twelve years old and I live in Berlin.

Today, I really should have gone home earlier.

Much earlier.

If only Emil and I hadn't spent so much time playing together.

If only I had left when the warning sirens sounded.

If only I hadn't lost track of time.

But now it is too late.

Sand whips across Schloßstraße.

The wind throws fine grains into my face.

Sand crunches beneath my shoes.

Sand is everywhere.

Berlin has not been a green city for a very long time.

At least not here in the south.

We live on the edge of a vast sandy landscape.

Some people call it the Berlin Desert.

I pull my scarf higher across my face and keep walking.

Fortunately, I know a nearby shelter.

Right next to the old Bauhaus building on Wilmersdorfer Straße.

Just one hour, I think.

The storm will pass.

And then I will be home.

At last, I reach the entrance.

The heavy door closes behind me.

Immediately, everything becomes quiet.

I brush sand from my shoulders.

It falls from my clothes.

There is even sand inside my shoes.

Exhausted, I sit down on an empty chair.

At first, I only hear my own breathing.

Slowly, I begin to notice the people around me.

A girl about my age is sitting beside me.

She is crying.

"Hello," I say softly.

"What's your name?"

"Lina."

"Why are you crying?"

She looks at me.

"I'm thirsty."

It sounds so simple.

And somehow so sad.

"When the storm is over, come with me."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because we have water."

For the first time, Lina smiles.

"I live in Schillerstraße," I tell her.

"I'm not far from there," she says.

Then we begin talking.

About school.

About teachers.

About the neighborhood.

About games.

Before we realize it, the time passes quickly.

Half an hour later, the all-clear signal sounds.

The storm is over.

Together we step outside.

Everything looks different.

Huge dunes have formed between the rows of buildings.

Some of them reach nearly to the ground-floor windows.

Lina and I slide down the sandy hills.

We run.

We jump.

Sometimes we sink ankle-deep into the soft sand.

Honestly, it is quite fun.

Eventually, we arrive at my home.

My parents open the door.

"Anna!"

They are relieved to see me.

"And who did you bring with you?"

"This is Lina."

"Hello, Lina."

"Hello."

"Lina was thirsty."

My mother immediately nods.

A few minutes later, we are sitting at the table.

In front of us stand two large glasses of water.

Lina empties hers almost in one go.

"This is the best invitation I've ever received," she says.

We all laugh.

Then Lina begins looking around our apartment.

Moss grows on the walls.

Tiny channels of water flow between green plants.

Ferns hang from the ceiling.

The whole apartment feels like a small green oasis.

"It is beautiful here," Lina says.

I nod.

"I think so too."

A little later, we sit on the floor.

Between us lies an old board game.

Mensch ärgere dich nicht.

Outside, the last clouds of sand drift through Berlin.

Inside, we roll the dice.

After a while, Lina smiles.

"Maybe next time you can come to my place."

"I'd like that."

"The crocuses are flowering right now."

"Inside your apartment?"

"Of course."

"And I have great games too."

I grin.

"Then I'll definitely come."

And suddenly I think:

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all

that I stayed too long playing with Emil.