From Malaria with Love

I had been in Egypt a week, and it was my last night before boarding my flight to Paris on route to Abidjan. As always, it had been a highly productive week in Cairo. As usual, my sister made sure to spoil me with “macrona bashamel”, veal, and all of my favorites. The logic was that I needed to be properly fed before I boarded my plane, which was due to depart at 1:30 AM. The driver had arrived close to 11:00 PM. It was now time to kiss everyone farewell for the nth time, something I always dread. As I got up from the couch I felt a chill run through my veins, and down my spine. It was a very familiar chill and I knew that my body was trying to tell me that something was off, way off. My sis

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    © Khaled F. Sherif, 2020

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