Wire cars, hair a mess; I rush my steps— now breathless. Tick tock, I stare; dark rings deepen my hollow glare, Mr. mischief  shades in haste, lines into my face. Times of Zambia, plastic Shoprite bags crushed, tied string— blue  and pink, plastic  sacks of mealie meal,  crumpled globes, they roll to fame from Z … Continue reading Tick Tock, I Stare