Mystery murders stalk candidates.” I stared at the bold headlines of the Nairobi magazine, Saturday Standard. The murder story engrossed a woman waiting for the same flight to Kisumu as I was. After trying to disentangle meaning from the awkward phrase, my fogged brain gave up and appealed to my friend sitting next to me. Anthony shrugged his shoulders.Continue reading “Into Kenya”
“It smells like a horse in here,” a kid proclaimed.
The monorail doors closed as we began our rapture to the magical destination. I was at Magic Kingdom twelve years ago as a 10-year-old. Now, a 10-year-old’s observation shook me out of my vision of past memories and anticipation of the coming magic. I sniffed. It did smell like a horse. The barn air was unmistakable, but I was more surprised where I was smelling this — on a monorail taking my family to Disney.