With a head full of thoughts about missionaries and sinners I find the way to my hammock. My belly is once again full with grey juice and some maniok. Sleep envelops me soon after I lie down. No dreams come to me on this night. Only heavy ideas and a deep satisfaction linger in my heart as I rock quietly between the two coconut trees.

As black fades into blue, the birds start their morning orchestra.

Continue to "Black Magic"