Yeah, but Mercy, he lives on the other side of the ocean.

Mercy had Ibou memorized like a thin, cool sheen of perspiration enveloping her skin. At any moment, she could suddenly smell his long and lanky movements mingled with the dirty sea-salt air of Dakar. The smell of powdered clay mixed with man that she snuggled into every night before she drifted back to Africa in her sleep.

SALAAM BY ALISON GRIFA ISMAI…

This post is for paying subscribers