Sogbo's Wife

March, 2006

I remember a fight in the village. This was on a harvest night when the moon was full like a great silver coin, and the tall mask--the one on stilts--had appeared in the witch doctor's compound, fortune-telling for rice and change, then dancing to the young men's drums, turning and leaping on those stilts like a giant crane. I had been in the village for more than two and a half years, and even though I was the only white most of the community had seen, I was no longer a novelty. I was a hunter,...

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