Telephone Conversation – by Wole Soyinka
The price seemed reasonable, location Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived Off premises. Nothing remained But self- confession “Madam, I warned, “I hate a wasted journey- I am African.” Silence. Silenced transmission of Pressurised good – breeding. Voice, when it came Lipstick-coated, long gold-rolled Cigarette- holder pipped. Caught I was foully “HOW DARK?…… I had…
