When Paul had left for work in the morning Daraja had been sulking. He laughed because she would not kiss him good bye.
When Paul came home from work, he didn’t see his wife. He called for Daraja. He looked around the flat, didn’t see her. He dialed her cell and was told the number was no longer in service.
Feeling as if he’d entered some strange dimension, Paul searched he house. All of her things were gone. It took him awhile to realise she had moved out.
Paul didn’t know where she was; didn’t know anything.
All he knew was that he couldn’t afford the rent. And the rent was due.
Paul called his Grandmother, seeing if he could get back into her house. An Aunt took the call, said Grandma was in the hospital and had sold the house three months ago.
Paul didn’t know what to do.
He broke down into hysteria. Alone, lost, he didn’t know what to do. All he knew as that he needed to get up to New York, needed to see his Grandmother.