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Mansa Mus A Short Story

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The sun is beating down upon us and we are resting in this lively city for our next travels. “Look over there! Why are they carrying so much gold into their palace?” The slave points out. “I’ve heard rumors of Mansa Musa not talking to the other king. Why do you think that is so?” I hear a random voice exclaims. It is very loud here and it is very hard to collect my thoughts to write a journal akin this. Traveling to other towns and writing has been easy, but never has it been this loud before. I akin this town, don’t get me wrong, but it is way too loud. The loud sounds make it very unpleasant. I wish to leave this place. It smells akin fresh gold which makes me jealous. “Oh well,” I thought to myself, “currency has been the downfall of many
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