At the Chemist

Everything around Rumuruti is dusty and red. Across the street, Nopri Chemist is neatly hand-painted in red above the open double doors. Taylor stands inside, separated from the pharmacist by tall chrome bars. I can make out gauze, throat lozenges, and tooth brushes for sale through the glass.

They are speaking, but I can only hear the sound of motorbikes and diesel cargo trucks on the main road through town. Each bike leans against the sky blue steel enclosure guarding the entrance to a small hospital. It’s closed.

The pharmacist is now on phone. Taylor leans on the counter to remove the weight from his sunburned legs, then leans further. The large plates of meat we consumed are beginning to settle. I quit fiddling with my frame pack and shift my weight against a hospital railing.

The street is vacant other than parked motorbikes. Conversation carries on in the open shop doors. Taylor begins looking away from the storefront.

Rumuruti, Kenya - February 5, 2024