
It is about 12:30 pm as I write this. I am at work pretending to be busy yet all I am doing is thinking about is you. We have probably met, or yet to meet at the fuel station or at the car wash. Maybe we will meet one rainy night on Thika Road when I bump into your Mercedes. Or we will meet at the coffee shop downstairs when I slip and pour my coffee all over your expensive suit. Don’t blame me, I am a hopeless romantic.
I am that point...