Cozmoz arrived with his usual perky walk, wearing flip flops that belonged to two different pairs and red plastic shades lifted over his head. He always had them, even at night. We arranged to meet in a small bar run by Italians in one of the side streets of Watamu's centre, because it was the…
"The game is called Presidents," one of the French girls is saying, gesturing excitedly the way people explaining card games do, her words coming to me through a haze of smoke. "And the aim of the game is..."
But I can't catch what she's saying. Right now, I'm the dumbest, slowest version of myself, my…