Rashid Abubaker stood on the rooftop of his home in the Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem as he watched the noisy crowds coming and going through the Damascus Gate in the distance. There were some wealthy merchants with their servants entering the city, camels loaded with goods, and heavy carts drawn by horses. The guards at the gate were trying to extort money from them. Commoners poorly dressed and carrying only small sacks on their backs were also entering and leaving, the guards fairly left them alone. Since it was a waste of time to try and extort anything out of them.
It was late afternoon. The sky was partially clear with some white clouds littering the heavens. Being late afternoon, the sun was not as hot as it was at midday. That's why he could afford to stand on the rooftop without fearing his fancy robe being drenched in sweat before he moved around and impressed some people.
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