You’re in bed reading your messages from a long, long nap (6 hours). As your scroll through your messages (students’ ones too) you find that she’s been calling your for some time. You return the call; she’s waiting for you at the cinema. in your most silent tone (not becoming you) you promise to rush down. And you leave.
Next message before you do. A guy called Garry (you have no friends called Garry, close ones any way) calls you to ask if you can do dinner. You politely decline, but he says he needs money from you, a return of the money you borrowed to spend on a friend’s gift last Christmas (you spent last Christmas with your boys). He comments that he noticed the wad of $10 dollar bills in your pocket (that fact is true) and he just relents and says he needs the money desperately. You tell him vivocity, he says he will eat and wait around for your money. You still have no idea who he is, but more pressing matters weigh in. You leave in five minutes.
On the cab, you pass by Boundary Road, and the church you used to go to. And underpass leads through there now. Strangely, you noticed a heaving downslope that is devoid of cars, like a large-ass slide, leading into the cavernous through-road. You stop the cab driver before the steep slope, pay him off, saying you’re doing something you’ve wanted to try in a long while, and, running with arms flailing, you dive into the steep slope. It slides, bringing you down like a boy on a skateboard, but you stop at the end of the road, just before the steep climb. And you try to run up before unsuccessfully slipping and falling.
Wake up, (Neo).