Meet Gesengei. He’s Samburu. The thing with Samburus is that everybody mistakes them for the Maasai. It pisses them off, and rightfully so. It’s like someone who keeps calling you James when you are Martin and you can’t muster enough nerve to tell them that (cue: shouting) your name is freaking Martin!
I tipped the porter then stood at the balcony staring at the ocean now a sinister shade of blue, almost black. The sun had only just set behind the flat line of the horizon dotted with boats drifting home.
When budding writers ask me how one can become a good writer I always tell them, “You have to be unafraid to start a sentence with “and.” People don’t like starting sentences with conjunctions because teacher Lucy of Class Five Blue said it’s bad to do so way back in 1987.
If we are elements moving in a galaxy, I think death is a furious asteroid headed our way. The moment we are born the asteroid that will destroy us starts to move and it continues to build momentum and a rage of mortality as it approaches us.