A Ramadan without warmth, without erect table, without laughter which fill the room for us, and a cell without family, without hope, just a pale neon which never goes out, and a cold tray placed on the ground for Sonia.
A Ramadan without warmth, without erect table, without laughter which fill the room for us, and a cell without family, without hope, just a pale neon which never goes out, and a cold tray placed on the ground for Sonia.
