dezful walls and wanderlust: a street artist’s scribble
i rolled into dezful with a half‑empty spray can and a headache that sounded like a broken snare. the *sun was lazy, hanging low over the karun river, making the old bridge look like a rusted percussion pad. i heard that the local cafe serves chai so strong it could wake a sleeping drummer. someone told me that the night market hides a wall where the best tags get painted over by dawn-don’t quote me, but that’s the rumor.
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i just checked and it's hovering around a lazy twenty‑four degrees, feels like a sun‑baked wall, hope you like that kind of thing. if you need a break, the nearby towns of shushtar and ahvaz are just a short hop away.
some local warned me that the police sometimes mistake fresh paint for vandalism, so keep your cap low and your steps* lighter than a hi‑hat.