Aiman

I say it's a restaurant. That's wrong. I say it's a place that never closes, with plastic chairs and a television showing football from somewhere else, where a man pours tea from one jug to another like he is pulling a ribbon. That's closer. What I can't explain is that it was the only place in a city of eight million where I felt someone was waiting for me. You were. Every night, with the second chair already pushed out with your foot. Thank you for the chair.