Hattie wiped her desk with a tissue, although it looked quite clean to me. Maybe that’s the way to do it: make the dust know you’ll fight it hard, and then it won’t bother to settle in the first place.
Zaba turned on the bakkie heater, which sounded like a wheezy dog, and was not much warmer, but it kept my feet from freezing.
‘No signal,’ Zaba said. ‘The Karoo really is the middle of nowhere.’
‘For you, maybe,’ I said. ‘For me, it’s home.’
I stood up and tried to hug them both, but my arms weren’t long enough. So I made us all some more coffee.
‘He threatened to kill us, too,’ said Zaba. ‘Feed us to the crocodiles.’ Bingo shook his head and said, ‘It is better…
