Once I had tuned in to the unhinged narrative style with increasingly hysterical repetitions, I was swept into this story with no full stops on the page or boundaries to subjects under discussion in the narrator's head. Both satirical and thought provoking, this is a graphic and alcohol fuelled insight into the lives of those who pass through a less than salubrious Congolese bar.
I stand up to stretch my legs and get something to eat, and I think what a strange day this is, starting at five in the morning with picking up the shit, not a good sign, and now everyone seems on edge, I think this is my last day in this place, even if I don't really believe it, I still think it's my last day here, you have to know when to draw the line, that's what I tell myself, as I leave the bar, taking my lost illusions with me, and cross the Avenue of Independence...
