Empty string

A small crowded sandy square resembling a camp.. On its edges are watchtowers occupied by armed men awaiting something.. Dust clouds over it due to people's movement.. It has a smell similar to mold.. There is no shade except some ghaf trees under each of which a group of men sit, sometimes raising their voices.. Sometimes they argue.. and sometimes they are silent. I saw there all kinds and colors of people.. and I heard of countries in Asia and Africa I never knew.. like Saidu, Qeshm, Zanzibar, Pompeii, Sri Lanka, and Bangladesh. They come in sailing ships and throw them onto the coast like bags of rice, then gather them before distributing them again.. and at night the movement decreases and the dust settles.. and hardly is heard anything except faint crying and whispers like the hissing of snakes among the kidnapped women.. and the voices of the scoundrels chatting and laughing.