In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

3 Lagos L agos. Lagos. The door swings open. The breath of the jungle scorches my skin. Sweat and shit and tar and green, metallic as blood, the smell floods the plane, drowning the staleness of chicken and gin. The jungle pours into my lungs. I am breathing heat. The runway is far below, shimmering like it’s underwater. There are silver steps, long drop one to one to one. Lagos, Lagos, Lagos, I say. I slip. The metal burns my calf. ...

Share