Red Taxi

Abstract

Mafumu walked, no, he strutted towards the Red Taxi. Right now, true to his name, he felt like a king. Behind the toilets from where he had just emerged, they had sealed the deal. Nkhata had been driving his combi conductor-less for the last few days and he, Mafumu, being the observant type, had made a mental note of this, filing it under “things of great importance” right at the front of his brain.