“I’m sorry.” It was a simple statement, filled with honesty and sadness, but truth was evident in the man’s voice . . .
The rain stops now and I shake my head to fling the last drop off my big straw hat. It have a freezing trickle of water running down my arm, a silver ball escaping down to the tip of my finger. Forest rain does be like that: cold in the humidity, shining like hell when the light touch it . . .
At night you lie awake, kept up by the sounds of running feet and children’s eerie laughter . . .
Featured: Black Interest
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- Eight New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set
- Gathering of Waters
- New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set (Tatu)
- Nairobi Noir (Kenya)
- Black Orchid Blues
- New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set (Saba)
- The Roving Tree
- Accra Noir (Ghana)
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