Meknes to Rabat

The train was late, the A/C broken, the window screwed shut, the compartment an oven. A few stops before Rabat two young women got on, one in a tight skirt, hair flowing, made up. Hello, coast: goodbye, interior. We stepped off the train into the ocean breeze.

Meknes to Rabat, Porto after Madrid — by the ocean, one breathes freely.

Or is it…in capitals one breathes freedom…?

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