“It smells like an old crypt,” Noor said as the central heating system sluggishly started up for the first time that autumn. Stray leaves whispered in the ducts. “Smelled a crypt before?” Khaldoun asked his new wife.
This song, right here: “Elephant Gun” by Beirut. There’s a joke in there somewhere. I am too aweary, aweeeary, to ever dig it up.