On sunsets

The sun here sets in buttercup and pearl behind Westminster, and Big Ben sings to me as I float home on my bike down the Albert embankment. I've been to a tap class, which is a new challenge and I like it, but it makes me so angry with myself. The pretty sunset cheers me up, but I remember the rampant flames over the Johannesburg skyline, and it is a memory I can never shake. Those sunsets are scorched onto the souls of those that breathe them. Africa never lets you go.