DownwardsSaint

Waraba has been Waraba since before Amadi was born. He claims he earned the nickname because he has the hyena’s luck in finding things. Amadi thinks it must be his laugh instead. It is loud and tense and filled with wanting. Waraba fights for attention like a hyena wrestling the marrow from a bone. The sun is climbing from its bed. Treasure trucks lumber in from the city to dump their loads. Waraba is wetting the side of a rusted Bajaj. Little wheels point skyward, a three-legged carcass in a savannah of refuse. Waraba finishes and scans his domain. “Have you found anything good yet?” Amadi rips open another black bag. He

Waraba has been Waraba since before Amadi was born. He claims he earned the nickname because he has the hyena’s luck in finding things. Amadi thinks it must be his laugh instead. It is loud and tense and filled with wanting. Waraba fights for attention like a hyena wrestling the marrow from a bone. The sun is climbing from its bed. Treasure trucks lumber in from the city to dump their loads. Waraba is wetting the side of a rusted Bajaj. Little wheels point skyward, a three-legged carcass in a savannah of refuse. Waraba finishes and scans his domain. “Have you found anything good yet?” Amadi rips open another black bag. He

Waraba has been Waraba since before Amadi was born. He claims he earned the nickname because he has the hyena’s luck in finding things. Amadi thinks it must be his laugh instead. It is loud and tense and filled with wanting. Waraba fights for attention like a hyena wrestling the marrow from a bone. The sun is climbing from its bed. Treasure trucks lumber in from the city to dump their loads. Waraba is wetting the side of a rusted Bajaj. Little wheels point skyward, a three-legged carcass in a savannah of refuse. Waraba finishes and scans his domain. “Have you found anything good yet?” Amadi rips open another black bag. He