AymanOne of the artists here, Ahmed, is also from Egypt, and one day he invited me to walk with him to a nearby park. I love this park and come here often; it is huge, quiet, and I can collect plenty of objects while I walk.
As we walked, we smelled some frying fish, and Ahmed said, “It smells like my mom.”
I burst into laughter, even though I knew what he meant. It reminded me of my mom, too, and a thousand other things that had happened to me in a place far away from here.
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Ahmed