You know, it´s one of those evenings when you finally rest your mind a little from the heat, the drought, the dust. I take my young sick dog Kalu for a walk, just now, and I enjoy a bit of a breeze that is going while I slowly walk down the narrow society lane to get to the common garden. In the yellow glow of the fading light I watch people on the roofs of the few neighbouring row houses preparing their bedding or their nightfeast: men drinking together to celebrate another shitty day in paradise, or their niece´s wedding or whatever.
I watch the palmtrees swaying lightly in the subtle breeze while Kalu is bringing me a twig from a nearby pile of burnable rubbish – tail high up in the air, nose equally, the whole dog a testimony of the joy of being alive.