The town was dying... People were, the farms were, the joys were... all of it.

Your family scraped together enough to get you a guide. All of them were sick, except you.

You were to be taken across the desert, along with many others in the enormous caravan, to a town with more opportunity. Today is the day you leave.

You say goodbye to your ill family, pick up your bag, then go out to meet him.

...

I stand there with a camel, black hooded poncho, white harem pants, no top, black scarf mask, and brass bangles.

The client walks up to me and I nod.

"Bes El-Masri, your guide."