15
The streets wound through the city, a moment of awe behind every corner. The dancing women with their alluring smiles, an artist painting caricatures of the rich men passing by, a sword-swallower spewing fire. The city was fast, wild, exciting. Nothing like the small village I grew up in. It brawled with life, with movement, with people knowing exactly what they wanted and endless streets that all looked the same. One of the dancing women winked at me as I passed them for the third time. She shook her hips and waved at me. Hesitantly, I waited, unsure if she meant me.
“Come here,” she sang, her belly moving in a hypnotising way I’d never seen before. It was exotic, mesmerising, enchanting. How did she move like that and why was it so beautiful? Like water and waves, she shook her hips
