When I was 8 years old, a teacher told us in primary school that the air displaced by a butterfly flittering in America could cause tidal waves in China. Or was it the other way? Never mind. That day I tried to be quiet and walk softly and not breath hard to not enrage the sea. If a butterfly can produce tidal waves with its beautiful wings, with its soft and light wings, imagine all the kinds of disasters that my body could cause.
Tonight I danced with a guy. Ok, not a guy, THE
GUY, in a typical place in Nairobi for expatriats. And everybody knows
that we, the expatriats, can do things that we would never do in our
countries. Because the night over the equator is warm and the
traveller's fate always involves sins, or flesh, or sex, or drinks.
The air displaced by my smile while I was dancing caused tidal waves in someone's heart.
as usually I went to my bed wondering why God filled with colours the
wings of the butterfly, if in the end what they produce is as devasting
as hunger (even when some waves are not sure they are waves and disguise
themselves to be free of suspicion).