Wednesday, February 6, 2013


Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:45 a.m.

The African continent dangled from her earlobes. Salaka’s parents thought the jewelry was tasteless, but she felt it was a proud statement of her heritage. Salaka had never been to Africa, nor had her parents. She knew that her great-grandfather had come over from Mali to teach African history in America. He was a professor, educated at Oxford in England. Salaka had never been to England, either.

Most of her great-grandfather’s books had been donated to various libraries throughout the years, but a few still sat on a shelf in her home. Her parents owned a computer repair store; they weren’t much interested in history or ancestry. They would have simply let the books collect dust, but Salaka flipped through them all the time, even when she was little. She always felt like the pictures connected her directly to Mali, right at her belly button. She knew she’d go there someday. She would continue her great-grandfather’s work, perusing the manuscripts of Timbuktu, searching for a forgotten past.

Well, hopefully Salaka could still peruse those manuscripts. In case you don't know, there's a great deal of trouble in Timbuktu right now. It's sad. 

Oh my goodness I think I'm actually going to make it to Jane's book club tonight. How exciting is that? Answer: very exciting. In other news: this cover of Pink Floyd's "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" is amazing. I can't get it out of my head. Listen to it.  

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