Where are we going? I ask as the cold ocean wind whips through my jacket.
Almost there! She laughs mysteriously, and continues. I follow her footprints down the coastline until she stops expectantly before a group of large boulders, half immersed by the sea...
"You most re-membur"—the Ugandan poet bade us in clipped, beautiful accents and round tones—"thet fleepping on deh light, duz knot ex-ting-gwish deh darknis; deh darknis ez oil-ways wid us, wai-ting, be-neat deh light, for deh mo-mint deh sweetch ez fleepped ah-gin. Four dis ree-sun, we most keep are eyez o-pahned and deh light ahn."
The room was quiet as she paused and met our gaze; her sharp chin tipped up with conviction of her words.Read More
We were nearing the middle of the lake when she pulled her kayak up beside mine and asked seriously, “So what are you hoping to find with all this?”
“What do you mean?” I set the paddle across my lap and shaded my eyes to her.
Her light brown eyes squinted into the sun at me, “With all the traveling, the wandering…” her expression was genuinely curious, “Is there something you’re looking for?”