...a deathly serenade...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AA
had been consumed by her. She had a beautiful
elegant way of dealing with people and situations,
perhaps her blueness made many situations seem
meaningless at this time and that sometimes made
her way soothing, sensual and calm. Although she
still had an erratic air to her: even on the journey
on three or few occasions I noticed her puffing
her cheeks, cutting her eyes and rubbing her face.
It was not through the whole journey that I spent
either conversing with Rajib or slyly though
attentively overhearing Ahmed and Leila’s
conversation. No, I spent much of the time staring
outside of the window. Looking at the changes
through Tangiers into more rural areas, noticing,
in particularly, the strange way an elderly woman
drove so aggressively. Right as the coach pulled
towards the right lane this woman was mouthing
what I guessed were swear words towards the
driver in front, who seemed to be ignoring the
woman and driving along without a change in
pace. There were also great expanses of green,
leading to more roads into more and more lives I
imagined as disparate as those living in the Cities,
cattle, chickens, electrical wiring, random houses
in peculiar surroundings etc. We soon arrived to
Rabat, a man, wearing what I knew as a Janjin,
stood up at the front and started to tell us all to
not forget anything on the bus. The hat made me
think of the remoteness and lengthy distance from
Tangiers (four hours), but then again I reminded
myself that Rabat was the Capital City, however
the Bus Station spoke more to this remoteness. It
was full of quirky action, antics and happenings:
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