home

I find myself lost in the vortex of old Meknès, and I ask a shopkeeper for the way out. “My nephew with show you,” and without hesitation, the young boy takes my hand and leads me through a dusty snakepit of dappled and shadowy passages, until we are at last debouched onto the Place Lahdim. I fumble in my pockets to offer the boy a coin, but he has already melted into the crowd. Part of the playlist: moving, still. 𝄐