The Smoke that Thunders
Una publicación compartida por Troy Nahumko (@troynahumko) el
It was a hangover of African proportions, the size and depth of the continent itself. Vague images of the night before included: urban elephants attacking faulty taxis, a woman who loved WWF wrestling, baboons, townships, dance-offs, Afrikaans and Africa itself.
Chibuku was a new word I’d rather forget.
The sun shone brightly as I awoke, mangled in a hammock.
The night before…
No coffee in the hostel…the instant had run out.
Man, is that sky bright…the deep blue above reaching out to the endless horizon, trudging into town. I couldn’t remember the last time or even the last thing that I had eaten.
Out of sight but the Smoke that Thunders lets you know it’s not far off.
Call centres and moped scooters making more noise than normal.
Zim style meat pies and nuclear orange soda pop.
Forget the coffee.
There’s only one way out of this.
