OUR MOON HAS STRINGS
The atmosphere pulsed with excitement, drums and claps rising as the boys led the jama songs, whistling and yodeling into the wind like joyous village criers.
Their first stop was Mountain Afadjato, standing proud at 885 meters high. The tour guide narrated its legends- of spirits guarding the peak and farmers gathering herbs by its slopes, before the climb began.
Derrick gripped Valery’s hand firmly, pulling her up each steep path as she struggled against her own fatigue. Riley trailed quietly behind them, his pace measured and calm, though sweat dripped from his chin with each step.
Halfway up, Riley sat on a flat rock, breathing heavily. “I hate trekking,” he groaned, pressing his back ag
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