Look at me! I don’t even realise how unhappy I am until my aunt picks up the phone and I almost start to cry. I tell her that it’s not a nice feeling this “I told you so.” I tell her I can’t do this anymore. I tell her I can’t keep quiet and pretend that I’m some sort of functional type that can swallow all these election posters like there’s no tomorrow, and hey, everything’s going to be ok. Kind of like your mother saying sweetly, anyone for more chocolate cake when she knows you’re watching that lip of fat pout over your knicker line. The thing is people just keep coming. Wanting their fix, or their therapy. Sometimes they linger at the front door talking petitions, like, yeah babe they’re sure going to make a difference. Or if they get further in, past the gate, and the front door, they sink down and kneel on the floor in your office, talking possibilities. And all the time you’re thinking about slipping out the back door and going straight home.

This entry was posted on August 20th, 2013 at 1:54 pm by Bev Clark and is filed under Elections 2013, Reflections, Zimbabwe Blog, Zimbabwe News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.