The past is buried deep within the ground in Rabat, although the ancient walls in the old city are still standing, painted in electrifying variations of royal blue that make the winding roads look like streamlets or shallow ocean water

I guess it all depends on whom you ask and when you ask. Race, I've learned, is in the eye of the beholder.

Lately, Mami’s eyes have been so dark, I don’t like looking into them because I’m afraid I’ll fall in.

Globalization by the way of McDonald’s and KFC has captured the hearts, the minds, and from what I can see through the window, the growing bellies of the folks here.

For some, excavating the past isn’t an adventure, it’s more akin to tearing a Band-Aid off an open wound.

Women destroy me. I allow them to.

The hospital room was as cold as dead skin, the hallway crowded with lost souls and reeking of illness.