He invited me in a wave of friendliness, of loneliness, maybe to defend himself from beautiful Fatmata that devoured his days and nights. Joel, in his loneliness, that came for three months in Mali, that it was his first time in Africa, fell in love with Mali, Africa and Fatmata.
The war is a whore, I thought to myself, and in the following weeks, every time I went past Fatima she would stick her face into the air as if I were transparent and I would look down at the ground, embarrassed, as if I were the one born in Texas.
The Olympic airlines plane was friendly. People smoked, and the politically correct was as distant from the Boeing 737 as eastern Europe is from the […]
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