“African Stamps” by Brecht De Poortere
In my first memory as a child, I sit naked in a garden somewhere in the Congo watching ants scutter in line. They lug the …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
In my first memory as a child, I sit naked in a garden somewhere in the Congo watching ants scutter in line. They lug the …
Out by the creek behind our home, the moon and stars reflect off the water, and Bandile would often go out there. The trees were …