واسلالا

Overview of the novel: She threw her head back, raised her arms. She was sitting on the sidewalk, stretching her arched body. Her gaze wandered over the natural scenery extending in front of her. The water was still slightly muddy due to winter debris, in the river that widens as it passes in front of the farm, with small islands covered with plants, palm trees, shrubs, and reeds distributed in the middle, giving an impression of the path opened by the trees to transfer to the other side. The dense mangrove plants with their curled leaves, trunks, and numerous stems, at that time of the morning, created a white and mysterious atmosphere from a sky close to the ground. On the opposite bank, at the top, the fog was dissipating into a bright space. The flamingos were sinking their long beaks into the water, moving on long, thin legs like girls who fear their skirts will get wet.