The start of week 3.
Early in the week I had an experience that I am sure only a South African could understand. Becca and I were walking home from a stint at the ‘Big W’, and I noticed we were being followed, every step of the way. All the way up Marlborough he followed, every step of the way, didn’t want to alarm Rebecca but told her to walk a little faster… but he walked just as quick… Every step of the way. Past the bus stop, and across the road. Further up the road, I slowed down and he stopped outside the butcher shop, to ‘look in the window’. I sped up and snuck into another pathway that leads to our apartment block, not near our flat (because I didn’t want him to see), but enough to see him hopefully pass up the road… next minute I hear steps... look back and he is now RIGHT behind us… with… with damn keys… for his unit… So I pretended to be looking for something I had supposedly ‘dropped’ in the bush. Rebecca was so confused and I felt so damn neurotic. So the person following was actually jus...
