Note 3: Eating out

English words in South African accents, latest western hit music and the sound of footsteps…incoming and outbound…fill the ambience of the eatery I have chosen to spend my spare hour…or two. I am seated at a bright red booth meant for 6…I asked the waiter for one…I guess my backpack gets a seat then.

I hear the silence filling the uncapped void between the couple seated behind me. On my way in, I stole from them a vague glance. My ears eaves drop on their silence. No words, just forks hitting white porcelain plates. An abrupt cough. Someone choked…on the silence.

I choked on their silence…



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