By Mmathabo Maebela As I rush to join the wave of people walking towards the complex, my phone rings. Absentmindedly, I fish it out of my backpack. (Eish, these focken telemarketers.) Before I could end the call, a brake squeals from a taxi hurtling past. My body jerks back, heart pumping in exasperation. The driver leans out the window, glances at me, and presses against the hooter in irritation. (Yeses, death almost had me.) The wave of people walking in front of me does not stop. Even those who click their tongues in dismay at my silliness. Urgently, they slide…
Author: Mmathabo Maebela
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