COFFEE AND HONEY, that is still the plan, and today I see a little space by the road that would suit it proper. Just a counter and two benches, people stop on their way up, have a cup, buy a jar, gone happy. The man says the space belongs to his cousin, so now I need to find the cousin, but first I start thinking about the sign. Yellow letters would show from the bend. My aunt asks how much the rent is and I tell her I never reach that part yet, you have to see the idea first. She look at me over her glasses. Fair enough, I will ask, but she has to admit the place is good. Even got shade in the afternoon.

My younger child call to tell me about a drawing from school, talking so fast I have to ask what the thing actually is. A bee, apparently, because Daddy have bees now, and mi tell you that pleased me plenty. Wanted to tell everybody in the cafe but the phone start cutting and I miss half the rest. Say call me back when you reach home, then I keep checking the screen all evening like it owe me something. No call yet. Could be they busy. I have the picture now though, big yellow bee with about twelve legs and my name underneath, and I sent a voice note saying this one could carry a whole bottle of honey by itself.

Walk up to the drying beds after the cafe shut and my calves start burning on that last piece of hill, same place every time, like somebody put a marker there. I stop to look back and get my breath, tell myself I looking at the view, which is also true. The shirt wet down my back but the air up there cool, and after a minute I feel good enough to keep going. Coming down is where the knee has its opinion, so I take the longer turn and let it talk. Reach my aunt yard hungry enough to eat before the rice ready. She give me a piece of yam to stop me lifting the pot cover, and it nearly burn my tongue. Still ate it.