Art & Architecture
Jeffrey looked at the blank page. It glared back. His ideas came slowly, and he found himself sketching a round-bellied, long-armed sloth. "Focus on the words," Jeffrey muttered to himself. "Just forget about the words," whispered a voice. Jeffrey looked around, his eyes wide. "Who said that?"
I've never talked to Lacey because, clearly, it would be a waste of breath. I don't even know why people like her were born. What is she good for? Proof that evolution can go backward? Sure, she's pretty, but that's about it. Dolls are pretty too, and I got bored with them years ago. Meh. I hardly ever played with them even when I was little. Why would I bother with a brainless doll now?
Sadly these things can be forced on us.
Safiyah stared into the distance. If she looked hard enough, perhaps she could see all the way to her village. If she were a bird, how easy it would be to fly home again.
But she wasn't a bird. And between here and the home she missed so much were the crowded shacks of the slum and the endless maze of buildings and alleys of Nairobi. Beyond Nairobi were roads that ran in all directions, like dark snakes.
