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Did you get a photograph of me standing by the camel on the beach? Miriam asked. Yes I did, I said, the two Arabs didn't look impressed with you in your bikini though. I was clothed; it wasn't as though I had nothing on, she said. No, but you know what they're like with women, I said. ****** them Benny, I am here on holiday; what do they think I'm going to do wear a long dress and head scarf in this heat? Never mind, I said, it is done now, and I have taken the photo. Will you send me a copy of the photo once we are back in England? Of course I will if you give me your address, I said. Make sure it is an envelope; I don't want my parents seeing me in my bikini, she said. I will seal it in an envelope out of prying eyes, I said. We looked  out at the Mediterranean. The water was calm and blue and the sky a kind of white blue. The sun hot and pouring its heat on us. Do you miss me nights? She said. Of course I do, but the tents are only made for two not three, I said smiling. She tapped my arm: maybe when your friend goes into Tangiers next we could, she said. If he goes, I said. Hope he goes, Miriam said. And the memory of her in my tent the other day buzzed around my head.
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Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 4:24 AM UTC
PHOTOGRAPH IN MOROCCO 1970.
Did you get a photograph of me standing by the camel on the beach? Miriam asked. Yes I did, I said, the two Arabs didn't look impressed with you in your bikini though. I was clothed; it wasn't as though I had nothing on, she said. No, but you know what they're like with women, I said. ****** them Benny, I am here on holiday; what do they think I'm going to do wear a long dress and head scarf in this heat? Never mind, I said, it is done now, and I have taken the photo. Will you send me a copy of the photo once we are back in England? Of course I will if you give me your address, I said. Make sure it is an envelope; I don't want my parents seeing me in my bikini, she said. I will seal it in an envelope out of prying eyes, I said. We looked  out at the Mediterranean. The water was calm and blue and the sky a kind of white blue. The sun hot and pouring its heat on us. Do you miss me nights? She said. Of course I do, but the tents are only made for two not three, I said smiling. She tapped my arm: maybe when your friend goes into Tangiers next we could, she said. If he goes, I said. Hope he goes, Miriam said. And the memory of her in my tent the other day buzzed around my head.
A BOY AND GIRL IN MOROCCO IN 1970.
TerryCollett
Written by
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 4:24 AM UTC
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