Recording the 804th hour in this position upon my arrival, I sit in my living room chair, staring past the iron barred window at the tips of colossal trees rooted in the golf course. Periodically, the ‘M’ silhouette of a bird breaks my trance long enough to remind me what I am doing, but not long enough to return me to my task. Two more birds weave through the giant tree tops. I stay here, attempting to summarize the past six months in coherent sentences…
…As I ping pong the 805th hour against the white walls of this apartment, my trance is permanently broken with heavy grey clouds and heat waves billowing up and distorting my view.
805.25 hours in: Burning garbage – nope plastic – seeps its way into my nostrils.
806 hours: For a summary of Africa, please see previous posts.
All my heart and a half packed suitcase,