He would have travelled back by taxi, but only had a few banknotes left, instead he bought a train ticket from Benoni to Springs Town, it was conveniently cheaper. Then from Springs Town, he’ll take a taxi to his home town, Delmas.

His journey couldn’t be more adventurous or exciting, but flooded with pains and snow of miseries. A simple sting that brought past memories. He had an interview appointment at Benoni Magnum T, and as he arrived on time, a woman, supposedly to be a secretary, turned a very cold shower on him by telling him the interviews were done electronically yesterday.

Philane thought it was some joke or prank, but the woman in a formal suit stood firm on her words. He refreshed his emails, but no sign of delayed mail. No SMS either. He concentrated his eyes over the woman’s face; lies, lies and lies. Philane had precise senses of spotting a liar. He sighed, angry and disappointed. He tried to question the woman but the security guard had watched him with a hawk’s eye.

Reluctantly, he gave up. His mind projected the bad news as he would inform his mother. He took a walk towards Benoni train station and waited in distress until the train arrived.

He was sitting on the bench, head bent down. He had bought 3 ginger cakes but didn’t have an appetite, or perhaps money for a soft drink. Symptoms of depression were looming on his face, recapping his entire life in a series of thoughts. Three years had passed and still no decent or permanent job. He was the eldest, 21 years old. His younger brother was only 12 years old, then a 7-year-old sister. Throughout these years Philane’s mother supported this family with what she earned from domestic jobs.

Philane had vivid dreams of improving his living environment and honouring his single parent with a big house., funding his siblings for future tertiary education. But it was all a wishful thinking.

The afternoon was accompanied by uncomfortable conditions, the sun beaming and the wind scarce. At least it cooled when the train moved and the wind blew through the windows and dropped the maximum temperatures. But as it stopped, heat was rising again and passengers sweating. Philane kept holding his A4 size brown envelope, loaded with a CV and certificate copies. On his left arm hung his slim-fit suit since it was terribly hot to wear it.

The train stopped at Schapenrust station, the last station before Springs. A few people climbed down and a few others climbed in. Among the new passengers was a notable old white man with hair grizzled with baldness, he had an ashy and smoked face resembling Nyaope addicts. His overall had irremovable stains of grease and oil and he had on worn-out safety boots which were peeled out by clotted mud of cement. His noticeable rusted teeth and deep bluish eyes portrayed nothing but poverty and a stench of sweat and dirty clothes surrounded him.

He stepped in, walking as if he had doubts. On his left arm he was carrying something heavy, similar to a welding machine. He stepped in and rested on the pole since all the benches were already occupied. Gently, he placed down the welding machine.

Voluntarily, Philane’s eyes fixed themselves on the device. It was silver-grey in colour with several clock-wise switches and LED buttons. Certain engravings resembled some unknown writings and on top, it had double screens poised diagonally and seemed to have some kind of fluid inside them.

A bell sounded. The door closed and the train pulled forward.

***

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