The Adhan

The Adhan

I once sat upon a rooftop in Jericho.

The sun hung high, yet somehow felt closer than ever before. The rays beat upon my newly tanned skin and cut through the streets of dust like high beams in the Illinois fog. Sweat flowed from every orifice of my body. Excess salt crusted upon my forehead. My shirt became a rag soaked in the oils of human exhaustion.

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