Cairo.

As the dawn broke over the plantations, I stood on a hillock surveying the vast stretch of greenery that stretched into the distance. I watched in rapturous wonderment the spectacle enfolding before my eyes. The hazy light lending the vines an etheral quality. From the furthest reaches where the heavy blanket of night had not yet been shaken off, the twilight rendering them a deep purple. Closer still the fronds, heavy with dew, stretched in the lazy waking ritual towards the first tendrils of light snaking through the last of the mist that hung low in the air. The first peek of the sun above the mountain peaks that ringed the horizon slowly set the sky ablaze. The flames in the sky seem like a reflection of the inferno within. The sweet serenade of the birds is interupted by a clamant ringing. The darkness takes over, and an instant later I awaken entangled in sweaty sheets, looking at the fan lazily twirling beneath the wooden rafters.