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My heart is in Belgium

BY MIKE MUTHAKA 1. She leans closer and plants a wet kiss on his cheek. Her pouty lips linger on his skin, and I almost want to walk over there and ask if she could give me one of those, wrapped in her matte lipstick. They’re a playful couple. They

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Playing House

BY MIKE MUTHAKA I step out of the shower without a towel. I don’t need a towel. I’m home alone. Water drips from my scalp, down my back. It feels like someone has emptied a bowl of spaghetti on my head. My shoulders tremble. The stained glass window distills weak

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What I’ve learned

BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI Dress up and show up. You’ll find reason when you shut your door behind you, sit at your desk and fire up your laptop. A person who works from bed doesn’t yet understand what a pair of brown leather shoes can do to your work morale. It

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We got rats

BY MIKE MUTHAKA There’s a rat in my room. Nights I hear it clamoring behind the wardrobe. The other day I found my red boxers had been chewed proper. The ass area had a crater. Even my farts don’t do that level of damage. And my farts can kill. My

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They told me I was a broken tool

BY FLORENCE BETT-KINYATTI It’s the morning of my birthday. I’m standing under the shower scrubbing my soapy back. I’m taking a cold shower because mornings are for cold showers. Cold showers are great for all these sexy scientific appeals – makes you more alert, doesn’t dry out your skin and

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All things lovely

BY MIKE MUTHAKA Saturday, 1.43 p.m. “Boys who say have a lovely night are suckers.” She’s recalling a text she received from a guy. “Have a lovely night,” it said. I imagine this text had an emoji at the end. Then I turn to her. I rummage around my noggin

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Should I?
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