5 years now. J, A and I climbed in the Adirondacks this May and talked about you. A is running the marathon this year; you would've liked to be there. Things are good, things have changed - without you, none of our treks are the same. I sometimes message you on YM!. No one has claimed your ID as yet :)

Rest in peace, my good friend. Rest in peace.

./w

you said you'd call.
why haven't
you called?
the moon is half gone,
it is already august -
another year
would go as well and I
am still here, though
everyone is crashing
into everyone else.
there is such poverty
of desire in this world;
I want you to come, do
the things you said
you would. I want you
to call. why haven't
you called?

./w

I missed the solitary early morning bus to Marikebuni. With nothing better to do, I walked to the District Officer's building, hoping again to get an elusive appointment. Everyone was out for tea.

The building was a leftover ruin. I shared a cigarette with a driver under the shade of a fig tree. The man, with coiffed hair was from one of the northern provinces. His teeth were white as paint. He spoke little, and had no opinion about anything. But tiredness had made my voice and thoughts harsh.

After a smoky silence he spoke up. There was traffic going north. A Ministry of Water inspection vehicle. He could patch me onto it.

Beyond the boundaries of Malindi is a stark coastline with an occasional road-sign - a cartoon crocodile spokesman for the Malindi Casino. We stopped once, at a Coca-Cola kiosk, and asked for tender coconuts. A child (blue eyes, light skinned, "Luigi") was sent scrambling away in to the bushes . The owner, a bearded man with dusty neglected hair spoke vigorously with an accent, while constantly fiddling the buttons on a shiny mobile phone.

There was a hint of flawed modernity in his manner. Luigi came scurrying back with freshly hatched coconuts. I drank the refreshing liquid, and checked my phone. There was no signal in the area.

Two hours after we had left, I stepped out onto a dusty track.