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My job came through, sort of

Well, I didn’t get my job back, but the commissioner gave me a contract instead, a pretty good one. I told Rosa, you see, the new South Africa is not bad at all. I got a contract with the department.

That’s not what you were saying last month, she said. Last month you were complaining about losing your position to an inferior worker. You were saying that there’s no hope for the new South Africa.

Rubbish, I said.

You’ve got a bad memory, she said.

My memory is perfect, I told her.

Only for things you want to remember, she said.

Abigail was at me again about this thing of the October Killings. I looked at it carefully this time. I hate to admit it, but she may have a point. That a group of men are murdered at the rate of one a year on the same date is too much of a coincidence. I cannot believe in coincidences of that sort.

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