Lazy Saturday morning, wake before the rest and tip-toe down the stairs to find coffee, only to be stopped at the last stair at the iron gate, keys hidden, alarm on. What strange worlds unfold around us. Africa sits like a song in my ears, like rolling waves of madness and peace. I return home changed, but it is too soon yet to say how. I will wait for the gate to open.
I will see what is on the other side.
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