FIG MEMORIES

THE MOMENT

One last shade of blue before nightfall. That evening, the heat was fading, and the oasis, which had retained the day's coolness, exhaled a scent of saffron, fresh wood, and a taut fig. Sitting on the carpet of an unexpected encounter, silence had settled. And behind the palms swayed by the wind, this indigo sky was already fading, gone before we even had time to look at it.