Kenya
We were flown around the country, hovering low over mobs using machetes to hack each other up
Each time I sit in St Bride’s on Fleet Street during the memorial of another friend, I look around at the crowds they’ve been able to pull in and feel terribly envious. Riffling through the order of service and then the church’s book of correspondents to find the faces of old comrades, I’m like a man wondering if any guests will bother turning up to one’s own hastily arranged bring-a-bottle party.
Disagree with half of it, enjoy reading all of it
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