The salty air. The very salty sea. A warm seaside breeze. Hair tangled and knotted in the wind – sticking to very salty lips.
These are my memories of Shomal – North.
Memories can be very elusive, hard to pin down. They tease us with a hazy snap shot of what once was – a time long since passed. A familiar scent, taste, the caress of a warm breeze.
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