Tag: Paul Bowles

  • The City of Ten Thousand Doors

    The room has been thick with smoke, curling in lazy rings under the ceiling fans, the walls stained amber in the dim light. Tangiers has pulsed outside, the city flickering in neon, shadows shifting like restless ghosts. In the corner, beneath a cracked light, the boss has leaned back in his chair—Moroccan leather, worn with…

  • Tangier

    The air hung heavy with the sweet, cloying scent of kif. The narrow, labyrinthine streets of Tangier were alive with the cacophony of street vendors, the chatter of locals, and the distant wail of a muezzin. In a dimly lit, opium den, a group of expatriates sat huddled together, their faces illuminated by the flickering…