superlative

Written by Cathoel Jorss, published 4 years ago

I am in Africa. I walked home the long way late and carrying a huge bracket of flowering branches, which I plan to set in water til they root and then plant them out to be trees. A man sitting on the bonnet of his car yawned hugely. I stood and we gazed at one another. Eventually I said, “I agree,” and lifted my hand to drop. He gave me his impish grin for free. The moon high above our heads was rancid with cloud and I have been doing good business all day today, I worked hard. Good night, youngest continent. See you in the morning under such a sun, a wild and good sun. Good night! Good night.