From a home to another: the aftermath

From a home to another: the aftermath


“Won’t you tell us one more story ?”, asked my cousin, an 8 year-old who was avoiding bedtime.

I told them about how Ali’s bag flew off the tuk-tuk and right next to a puddle, seconds before we reached Babylon. I told them about the Cherry Blossom table, the “if you forget it, it’s ours” rule, the swing, the mosquitoes that were immune to the spray repellents, Ricky and the rest of the lizards. I even told them about the thief, the monkey who ran off with orange juice. Agra and the immaculate Taj Mahal, and trying to keep an eye on 15 people without losing my hat. Continue reading “From a home to another: the aftermath”