A CLAPPING SURROUNDING CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR Dear Edwin, There is nowhere in this new union of South Africa comparable to the destruction suffered by the city of Johannesburg. It is like a bivouac beneath the grassland of the tropics feeding on an ancient Gomorrah’s leftover without suffering consequences of ditheism , it is a city where everyone have nowhere more important to go than where they have already being because the activities on one street is as important as the one that gives meaning to another. The face of the city of Johannesburg was created by the mistake of the gold rush but it is the experience of the war that have given it a soul and up till now none have love the city more than they have come to love the gold. It is almost four month past spring and i can still see children playing in the sand waiting for the rain without a period of adjustment and those too young to play outside stay close to their dolls like congenial companions. It is difficult to believe that the rise in the price of gold in Johannesburg which fell across the European market made London less attractive to investors from abroad, even the wild life enthusiast was made to hide from the open air of rural life and rebound from the intrepid scorch earth policy of the British army like frightened children living in the dark. We must blame it on the darkest days of the war that closed all the trade route connecting the city to the east, especially the city of Pretoria where every moment of happy re-union is still concealed by the sadness of disgust, because predicament even with another name still holds unto the nightmare of a man’s dream. My dear brother how do I tell you that my physical attraction to the beautiful athletic body of Kendra still leaves me surreal to fall short of the glory of the ruthless but really what can a man do to all that makes him a man and not less of his gender, keep in mind that I know that you still love to hear my stories and I shall not hesitate to tell you that I wish to cling on to all that is Kendra when we both shall meet again; right now I believe that her imagination of me is like the absence of a pillow from a princess fairytale a little memory of my face will no doubt make my life the longest page in her dairy, I can still remember the first day that we met in her father’s chalet that day she carried an unusual smile that only the oracle of Delphi could have decipher, the opposite was the case when we separated at Winburg on my way to Ulundi, though she had looked composed standing with me at the train station, I could still see that she was very sober in the midst of her pleasant glances it was indeed a moment of mix feelings for both of us, partly because we were sad to be separated by an important assignment and partly because we both knew that the hope to see the end of the war carried a greater risk than its beginning Cuthbert
Posted on: Thu, 22 Aug 2013 16:17:49 +0000
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