Volker Sielaff

MOON-NIGHT   Shadows enlivened by the moon like a load of night-fish and especially with a full moon When you yank up the blinds they...
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Francis Poole & Mark Terrill – Part 2

By the time Moustapha had reached the café he was out of breath and stopped, put his hands on his knees, and looked out over the harbor and the Bay of Tangier. His ears were ringing with the blood pulsing through his head. The effects of the majoun and kif had begun to lessen and his legs felt heavy.

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