Big City, Small World
On the third floor, Sylvere found himself in a wide, unexpected space similar to the one on the second floor. The difference was the collection of small circular tables surrounded by chairs and other...
On the third floor, Sylvere found himself in a wide, unexpected space similar to the one on the second floor. The difference was the collection of small circular tables surrounded by chairs and other...
“What is happening?” Sylvere said in Kikongo, closing the tall wooden door and discovering he had entered a narrow, high-ceilinged space on the ground floor of a musty building. It reminded him of a...
He never would be able to escape the burden of the past, a heavy weight of poverty and oppression originating in Congo but always close at hand in France as well.
The stone houses painted white or gray or brown with small yards attached to them gave way to fields of tall grass as the 10:35 RER D train from Combs-la-Villa-Quincy station sped toward the...
The small boy took a bite out of the doughnut he held in one hand and extended the remainder of the half-eaten, chocolate-glazed circle toward Sylvere. The boy, who was seated on a yellow...
Sylvere opened the back door of the small car, placed the saxophone enclosed in its case on the back seat, and closed the door. The air outside El Bulle Petite was fresh. He could...
“Watch where you’re going, Little Man,” Sylvere said, speaking in Kikongo and placing his hand on the head of the small boy. Sylvere stood next to the open drawer of his desk inside the...
Sylvere placed his saxophone next to its case on the small stage, walked to the bar, and sat on a stool near one end, staring into the black, heavy night. Outside it was hot...