The clerk was a tired woman with a stack of paper mountains on her desk. She didn't look up.
The sun hammered down on the dusty lot in Casablanca. Heat shimmered off the rows of second-hand Dacias and creaking Mercedes-Benzes, making the air smell of hot rubber and exhaust. For Samir, who lived in Lyon, this was the last step. The final hurdle. procuration voiture maroc
Now, standing in the heat, he watched a man in a faded gandoura kick a tire on a beat-up Ford Fiesta. Beside him, a younger man in a polo shirt tapped furiously on an iPad. The seller, an older man with a kind, wrinkled face, just shrugged. The clerk was a tired woman with a