“Warehouses and All” by Phil Slattery.

I met the world-weary expatriate American at a garden party in Egypt in ’89, several months after he had left the Somali oilfields. He remembered that outside his barracks near Mogadishu there had been warehouses full of rice donated by foreign charities to combat the perpetual famine.

“I Wanna Go Home…” by Helena.

It was an abandoned garden at the end of the creekside. And like a dense forest, the flowers withered already and the grass grew similar to the movie of Stephen King “The Grass”. It’s a path to perdition. Local people said that you can never go back once you go there.