Mowbray

Musa Khanyile

After twenty-one days of moving from one b&b to another, he is finally handed the keys to his flat: a two-bedroom apartment in Station Road smelling of paint. After moving his bags inside and gathering his breath, he looks around the space:

Rooms stripped of furniture. Empty rooms like himself, like the people who come to talk to him all day, patients who sit next to him and tell him how empty they feel. How many times has he wondered what emptiness looks like?

For two nights he sleeps in the flat without curtains and feels exposed in the morning when darkness can no longer hide him. At work, he hides everything relentlessly, especially when he sits crossing his legs, wearing a white shirt,

giving an occasional Mmm here and there, pretending to know what fills up a hollow heart.

Featured on 10 June 2021