A Song for Old Men
BY MIKE MUTHAKA The stillness of Moi Avenue was disturbed by a Citi Hoppa turning off the street. No.46, Kawangware: a big green rectangle on wheels. It took a sharp turn at
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December 11, 2017
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA The stillness of Moi Avenue was disturbed by a Citi Hoppa turning off the street. No.46, Kawangware: a big green rectangle on wheels. It took a sharp turn at
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA [Editor’s notes: Mike’s initial titles to this story, ‘Even the crow is a hero’. Then, ‘The Flightless Hero.’ I scratched them both and made my own attempts. First, ‘Superman’. Then, ‘Superman, without the Cape’. All these titles sucked major pipe so I settled for what we have
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA There has been an empty can of ginger beer living on my dresser for the past two weeks. It’s a beautiful bottle. Placed among the clutter of coins, colognes, cable wires, bits of hair
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA I have a phobia for swimming pools. I’ve always hated them. I see them as nothing but chlorinated death-traps. I mean, sure, swimming pools are a great place to see half-naked girls drenched in water but that’s
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA When I think about Sundays as a kid, it’s the smell of Dad’s cologne that springs to mind. It was a red bottle of Old Spice and the sweet sporty scent would
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BY MIKE MUTHAKA Let’s call him Tom. He’s in his first year in my campus and has the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a boy. He comes from Burundi, and
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