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Show GOING HOME I know this: that my presence here, on this crowded stretch of orange sand, upsets the tourists. They come to this island for the bright African sun, and I take up valuable space. They come to convince themselves they are younger than their years, and I remind them of their age. They come for the American radio music which blares from the loud-speakers on the beach, and I disturb their concentration. I know these things and knowing them has only caused me to stay longer. I was here before most of these people had parents. I have squatter's rights, and I have a thing or two to say before I go. They think it is time for me to die. They should think again. They expect me to slink off like a dog. They will never get that satisfaction. |