The Other Side of the Street.

The Lens Blur.

It was a busy evening that day. The sun had just gone down, and the sky had taken a dark blue shade, slowly dimming into the blackness of night. The cars in the streets all had their lights on and as he brought his head down from looking up to the sky, the noisy bustle of the city returned to his ears:  the car horns, occasional screech of tyres, people talking and laughing, this guy buying airtime, that one on his phone, the guys by the corner kept arguing – he heard Hazard and Neymar – football debate. He walked past. The vastness of the city dawned on him then, just as it did often. Harare was huge, the buildings enormous, compared to his average stature. The dealings that happened behind closed doors massive; and he could tell he was just another pawn in the chess field, an expendable, not…

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