Had he not looked in that direction, Oliver would never have know what the essence of life is. He was not sure whether he had seen a prettier girl in his life ever before. He wasn’t even sure whether he had seen a girl before in his life (apologies, he often doesn’t know how say…
He said my blog was down, that it bores him when he has to come here looking for beautiful new stories then he has to bear the disappointment of finding none. He emphasised that consistency is very important if I am to make my blog a success. He continued to say that when people come…
On a little stool near the glass table lies a brown wallet. It was bought one random evening on a street in South B at 9PM in the night. Oliver assumes that the Maasai who he bought it from had walked all the way from Kajiado to South B (72.6 km) just to sell it…
A little SQ somewhere in South B is a cremation chamber. Global warming has decided to warm this tiny overpriced structure a little bit more than anywhere else. It is very quiet, this place. A silence that has a dullness in it. But is there anything as complete silence? Is there not always a noise…