At first it blew like a waft of wind, a light breeze, but suddenly it strengthened, whipping up sand violently. So odd and abrupt, it had even caught Khaled unawares. And yet, he had seen so many sandstorms – he, an old Berber, who had often crossed the desert In his long life he had come to learn how to distinguish them, listen to them, smell their faraway scents, brace himself for the worst yet to come, but he had never experienced them before in such a treacherous, unusual way. A strange anxiety froze his thoughts, as if foreshadowing the idea of the end. Hastily, he ordered the camels to crouch and the very moment he was sitting down, he stopped and sprang round, scanning the sand nervously...
(by Khaled, Nignt Tales)

Claire had laid her head at the first strokes of midnight. The big biedermeier clock had suffocated the silence with vibrant echoes, now fading with difficulty. The dark, broken by the mild whisper of an abatjour, had filled the woman with gloomy unhappiness. It was not the first time. Even if more than two years had passed, she still felt Arthur's death as heavy as a stone that, though made lighter by time, continued to roll in her thoughts. More that ever, the river of memories flooded her mind, and filled it with a solid, suffocating melancholy that grew stronger at the end of the day... (by The last waltz, Night Tales)

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