Originally posted on JulyWrites:
I got robbed.
Saturday. On the eve of Africa Day. The midday sun at its highest and brightest. Plenty of weekend hipsters, part time cool kids and once off tourists milling about. Thieves broke into my car stealing from the boot a bag which held a lap top with my would be Caine Prize winning work, a camera with the sweetest of memories, a cell phone, bank card, ID, passport and the last tube of my favourite MAC lipstick which has now been discontinued.
Realising that some faceless entity has ventured into your personal space uninvited and helped themselves to your things, the things which in all likelihood you sweated for, saved for, scrimped for and maybe even scavenged for. Man that feeling is the choking kind.
I had to stop myself from shedding grown woman tears in an adolescent fashion and put my big girl bloomers on. Making a…
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