Alex James

Say a little prayer

Alex James leads a Slow Life

issue 17 May 2008

My shadow was a tiny slippery puddle at my feet; the sun directly overhead and absolute. I had to crane my head right back to see it, not that you had to see it to know where it was. Free from the familiar clutter of light and shade, an enchanting landscape sat sublime at this celestial point due south, its grand symmetries wavering in and out of form and abstraction in the heat.

From the corner of my eye I glimpsed a movement under a baobab tree: an animal in the shade. I was too hot to turn my head, but I moved my eyes and caught sight of a protruding horn with my peripheral vision. For maybe half a second I thought I’d seen a unicorn and hadn’t been at all surprised.

I’d seen so many unusual things over the past couple of days — ancient mango groves, oases, tiny blue birds and nocturnal flying creepy-crawly juggernauts — that my mind was ticking boxes on a different checklist.

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