The bass booms from the boat’s sound system and Ramin, of all people, dances wildly to it. He throws his long hair through the air, it swirls around his head like a curtain that is drawn up and down between him and the world. He pauses once; his hair falls on his shoulders. Ramin looks bashfully at the people around him who continue to dance. He seems to have realized that he had forgotten himself for a moment. That he had slipped into the celebrating group for a moment as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him. Then Ramin sits down again.

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