He asks me whether I was born in France or in Iran. “Iran”, I reply dreading what is coming afterwards. Then, he adds: “In Tehran?”. I confirm. He smiles, proud to have guessed correctly, not knowing that he had a chance of 1 in 7 to be correct. I wonder what kind of a city …
Month: January 2012
Those Portuguese eyes
It’s around midnight. I get into the metro and take a seat. I am so tired that I lean my head on the wall and close my eyes. I have about ten minutes to go. I can feel my veins pulsing in my boots. My feet are tired, I can’t wait to be in my …