Though strictly prohibited, smoke emits from her funnel while she leaves the harbour.
One of them is leaving for Accra loaded with yesterday's news. A resounding HOOOOOT deafens the ear and thrills the waving masses.
At the quay ships are loading and unloading while a patient piano is waiting out of key.
Behind chicken wire a man is seemingly asleep and moving about restlessly while a nervous hand writes a wordless story.
Telltaling scars on a wall.
Digging for the past.The local obsession.
Water has been replaced by bricks. Ships by cars.
Old houses harbouring generations of residents.
Always close to his work , in every sense, but still not recognized.
Standing on the bridge, he saw no meeting vessels in the distance.
If tended to properly (shield them from views) your monitors will multiply on the window-sill.
Just after breakfast.