146.
The only place I can go is back to the shared hotel room.
The madman is very ill and sleeps like a dead man day and night.
A thin black prostitute with tired eyes knocks on the door asking if I want sex. I don't. I give her a little money and send her away. No one else comes.
To avoid another taxi confrontation, I decide to walk to the airport now that I know where it is and when I hear the first birdsong of morning, I shoulder my backpack , leave hotel and madman and start hiking. The morning air is delightfully fresh. Frogs and crickets croak and rasp from fields bordering the road. I fervently hope the plane makes it out this time!
This time I'm early. The plane is ready. It’s “Go”!
My fellow passengers are ebony black men in immaculate white robes and turbans.
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