Today when I dressed I put on a pair of pants that I’d worn in Africa. One of those pairs that has all the pockets, velcro, and zippers. This pair is blue and maroon. I shoved my hands in my pockets to smooth them down, and felt dirt at the bottom of them. African dirt. I keep finding Africa in my pockets, in the creases and corners of things, and (in the case of at least one pitiful mosquito) smashed between papers that spent the summer with me in Zambia.
Africa is on my mind.