The first exile is to exile from one’s dress
“I saw my country leave me when I was only 13: the place of my birth had signed my fate... Since leaving Tunisia, I live with flashbacks like on a psychoanalyst’s couch, visions that refuse to detach from my retina: the ‘Nilla’ blue that whitened the laundry became the mirror of my emotions, and the black coal of my childhood that warmed my child’s room came together to fix the vision of my new universe.”
