She told me I was a hard bargainer. She told me she wanted more money than I thought it was worth. So, we went back and forth. Me, in my broken French accompanied by my beautiful colleague, Alexandra, as we wound our way in and out of the crowded and innumerable cobblestone streets of the souk in Marrakech. Her, covered from head to toe in purple with a black veil. Her, selling her handmade wares.
But, now he sits in Stefan's room in Vermont, thousands and thousands of miles from where he was purchased. This little leather horse and his camel friend.
So very far from Morocco and the purple lady.