rain on the wind

Walking up Grafton Street, I stopped suddenly.
The thought struck me.
"My life is about to change," I said aloud. "What about my travelling woman? What about my homeless guy?"
The ghost of Karen Blixen appeared beside me.
"These are my Kikuyu," she murmured.
I looked at her.
"They're not ours, are they Karen?"
"No James," she said softly. "They're not ours.