I was chest-deep in bathwater, listening to the sound of soapy foam popping. I'd timed the moment so that when the clock struck midnight - and I turned 40 - I'd be soaking in a bubble bath on the coast of Algeria.
Life had grown predictable and soft, thickening around the middle like an aging waistline. Overwork had something to do with it. I'd spent carefree years bouncing around Kyrgyzstan and Lebanon.
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