The Distant Metropolis
Ama Yakassai remembered the silence of the grave long before he felt the weight of the mud, a memory that had outlived the woman who occupied it. He stood at the border crossing, the Niger inland delta stretching out behind him like a field of orange groves in quarantine, the air heavy with wet wool and rotting vegetation. He was thirty-two, a workhouse matron’s son who had never held a...
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