“I think that it will be best for our relationship if we go out with different partners to different places for one night!” She says matter of factly.
He finds the thought disturbing. It is clear that she is bored with the relationship, that he is no longer able to satisfy her demands.
“I have organized someone for you… you will see… you will like her… she is sexy..”
“I already know who she is,” he thinks. She has once told him that she is going to organize him a prostitute so that he can “improve on his performance in bed…”.
He has seen his prospective partner for this one night stand as he was driving around in the darkest recesses of his mind… no matter how black the blackness this queen of the night is always visible… even though he has never met her he knew her.
His partner is in the shower of the house. The house was once a neat middle-class affair. Now having been abandoned by its former petite-bourgeois white occupants it has fallen victim to the lumpen plague of macho Nigerian men who feed on the income of street walkers and the habits of addicts. He tries to push open the shower door to talk to her, but she would have none of it. He becomes more and more anxious as the hour approaches strolling down the passage from which the rooms of the house leads, a passage like a human digestive system from front door to kitchen and back door, airy lounge, followed by bedrooms ending in bathroom and kitchen – mouth, lungs and arse.
He steps out of the back door and is amazed by the height of the walls of the neighbouring residences… even more stupendous is the fact that the entire walls, both sides are covered in giant mirrors… reflecting himself and the small deep swimming pool in the backyard in infinite replicas stretching into eternity. “This property cannot be very safe” he thinks “it ends with a low fence beyond which stretches a veld and a rolling grassy highveld landscape…”
His anxiety turns to depression as he strolls back into the house finding his very sexy, beautiful partner putting on her make up for the evening’s adventure. A tall muscular Nigerian bedecked with gold chains, earings and rings strolls around in the house bored.
He walks out the back door again. Takes off his shirt and slips face down into the pool. “It is amazing how warm the water is this time of the year!” he thinks as the liquid envelopes his body. He hooks his toes to the edge of the pool, his face, his torso front and legs against the wall, face down vertically. “I will drown myself in this position…” he thinks, “…perhaps she will take notice then..but this is emotional blackmail…” The Nigerian stands in the kitchen door casually smoking, observing the strange actions of this seemingly anxious, middle aged white man… after a pause he calls into the house… “Come see what you partner is up to in the pool… come and see quickly…”
“It is amazing how comfortable it is like this under the water…” He thinks “I can really go through with this…” His partner and the Nigerian stroll over to the pool.
“He seems to be breathing under the water” comments the Nigerian standing at the edge of the pool. “Another 10 minutes and he will be dead!” ventures the Nigerian as if in thought.


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