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#morroco
We went to a mosque in Tangiers; had to take off our shoes or sandals in her case. And it had a certain something about it: peacefulness and holiness and sunlight was there and water. And she said: I hear that girl with the long blonde hair had her handbag stolen right off her shoulder; they cut the straps; they gave chase, but lost him the side streets. I liked the patterns and purity of the place. I stood gazing around, taking it all in. So I decided to hold my handbag tight in my hand when I walk around now, Miriam said. Good idea, I said, breathing in the atmosphere, sensing I'd walked into a whole different world in time: colours, patterns. Where shall we go afterwards? She said, I'm thirsty. We'll go get a coke, I replied, sensing her boredom beside me. I took a last look around and followed her out into the street, after getting the shoes and sandals for our feet. We found a place and got cokes and French rolls and salads, and sat and talked. She about the girl and the thief, and I mused on her cute *** on the seat and red painted nails on her opened sandalled feet.
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Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 12:40 PM UTC
Mosque and Miriam 1970