We raced bicycles every evening down the hill by the market. You always won, on a bicycle the colour of fire.
Hamza, I let you win sometimes.
The rest of this letter is sealed.
Looking through the drawer…
One sealed letter is waiting for Hamza.
We raced bicycles every evening down the hill by the market. You always won, on a bicycle the colour of fire.
Hamza, I let you win sometimes.
The rest of this letter is sealed.