« In the first minute following her death, Tequila Leila’s consciousness began to ebb, slowly and steadily, like a tide receding from the shore… » For Leila, each minute after her death recalls a sensuous memory : spiced goat stew, the goat sacrificed by her father to celebrate the birth of a yearned-for son ; bubbling vats of lemon and sugar to wax women’s legs while men are at prayer ; the cardamom coffee she shares with a handsome student in the brothel where she works.
Each fading memory brings back the friends she made in her bittersweet life – friends who are now desperately trying to find her…