Daddy, I’m bleeding!

Short story by Al Kags The music was playing on the radio and Musevo was happy when the presenter wasn’t talking. These young fellows and their tiktok kid of language, “it’s just noise.” The reggae was smooth and the road was straight. He had just passed Mtito Andei and he was really feeling the power …

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John with his pumpkin

His eyes opened at 4.30 in the morning, as they had for all of the 45 summers that had passed, just about an hour or so before dawn. When he moved here 45 years ago, this neighborhood was different, quieter. It had more trees. The summer wasn’t so scathing. One could feel the ancestors still …

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