Everyone who ate a kilo of fresh cherries today, at the cost of only $2, raise your red, sticky, cherry-juiced stained hand.
What? Nobody? Oh wait! There’s me! Delicious.
As long as I spend the day not thinking about science, it turns out that every moment in Morocco is awesome. On an unrelated note, when I went to the big open air market, I asked the guy for a kilo of cherries. I said “يمكن شي الكيلو د حبب لملوك؟” The guy paused, turned to me and, in English, asked “”How long did you live in Fes?” I wonder if it’s because I have an accent, or because maybe they don’t call cherries Hbb lmlook here? Or maybe he saw my F-Town Forever tatoo.