Common Ground in the Kasbah

My first reaction at seeing the train was one of those nervous, split second laughs that come from deep inside of their own volition. It stopped the conversation of four vendors who were sharing a morning's cup of tea from a communal samovar. When I picked the item up with a polite smile to infer that I wanted to buy it, their eyes turned as one, fixing me with a stare of utter contempt; a stare so vicious it carried as much physical weight as a slap.