Buzzing mosquitoes were winged witnesses.
#KEYBOARD COMMAND FOR BULLET POINT EVERNOT CRACKED#
Fallen branches lining the twisting path cracked loudly. The man and woman were being led by soldiers who could perform the nifty trick of building distances between bodies in close proximity.
Then the image in the bottle spun like a revolving door. The man spoke in a calm, measured tone, his fate already hardened inside the Adams’ apples in the room. The woman’s head was bowed and she clutched a pink beaded bracelet, rubbing it repeatedly between thumb and forefinger. An emerald-eyed man and a young woman attired in traditional Nigerian cloth were before a more ostentatiously dressed committee who bore glum expressions. Lick the edges of the picture presented and you could taste the sour, sweet traces of palm wine and trap your tongue in a different time 19 th century Benin, Nigeria.Ī court was on display. The image unfurling inside the bottle shimmering like moonlight trapped in glass mattered.
It didn’t matter how the bottle had arrived at its location under the curious yellow gaze of the lamppost or whether the messenger had been a postman delivering for both God and the dancing devil. Its movements were audible gasps made of glass. The Yeah Yeah Yeah BlueprintĪ green palm wine bottle rolled on the wet London Street. Modern London, London 1970s & 19 th Century Benin. To my favourite usual suspects mum, dad, Amen, Ota and Iredia, thank you so much for everything.