Jericho. The city of the moon

My relationship with Jericho is that of fantasy and fancy. It is not just that I owe my non fair skin color to it, as my mother used to cover me with olive oil when I was a new born and wrap me under the burning sun of August, until my grandfather would call her to remove me before the cats eat me. As I grew up with this joke about my very first days of life, I came to imagine the fried smell that was coming out of me with that blend of skin and olive oil that definitely attracted the cats. Well my mother was still an obedient little woman of sixteen who had to follow strictly the orders of her mother in law. And of course I was the first child and was entitled for all kinds of experiments that included…

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