‘Here, I’ll get that for you’
It’s late; the stars have finally pierced Cape Town’s sodium glow. From the outfall pipe comes a steady flow of fresh spring water as it bubbles up in the most unlikely of locations, between gated estates in Cape Town’s southern suburbs. We thought we'd be alone.
The policeman hands down two plastic bottles, both empty. One Coke, one Stoney’s, it’s sweet smell still lingers. He struggles under the weight of his flak jacket and his pistol cuts into his lean waist, his night stick jingles against menacing, slightly rusted cuffs.
‘It’s ok boss’ he replies
‘I’m not your boss, come, pass them down’
‘Sorry boss, it’s just an expression, you see.'
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