The white man had tried to befriend the baboon at first, doing his best Doctor Dolittle impersonation. But the raging baboon leapt up at him with wild maddening eyes.
Two men beside me are talking very loudly, but I don’t understand what they’re saying. Not even enough to know if they’re talking about me. Another man has joined. They are definitely not talking about me – at least not now. They seem not even to notice my presence. Am I a ghost, a mere shadow of my former self?
Revisiting the scene of a distant memory can be a tricky business. One is never quite sure, if the ghost is you, or if the place is ghostly. The net effect of this is like wandering through a dream wide awake, very eerie.
“HIV! HIV! – Go fuck yourself!” she said. And then I woke up. Or maybe it was the other way round. Maybe a whore outside my door was actually cursing her punter and I wasn’t dreaming at all, and then, I woke up.