Husani had been driving his sun beaten, open-top jeep along an open stretch of two-lane road for some time before it hit him that he had not seen another soul. Twice a month, he took the same route to Ascension Village to pick up mail and replenish supplies, always traveling the main road, so it struck him as odd that he hadn’t encountered any vehicles traveling in either direction.
As a hunter who spent most of his time at a remote camp out in the bush, Husani was accustomed to being the only person around for miles. In fact, he preferred it, or at least that is what he’d convinced himself. He was a husky man in his early fifties, with a pronounced pot belly, and large leering eyes which he blinked constantly – and which appeared to be spaced an unnatural distance apart. Of course, this didn’t really matter to Husani, who was already something of a social misfit. As a rule, Husani generally avoided all unnecessary interaction with villagers, with the exception of the paid variety that he indulged in every few months.
Be that as it may, the route was one that Husani always enjoyed. It was scenic and colorful, with a diverse landscape that changed every few miles. On that day, the road took him past shallow green lakes decorated with floating yellow lilies, and resting flocks of bright pink flamingos. There were countless acres of open field, with golden, waist-high grass, where herds of Zebra and Gazelle grazed quietly, perking up only momentarily as the noisy jeep approached and sped past.
For miles upon miles, Husani had stared through the dirty, upright windshield, and listened to the rhythm of the laboring eight cylinder motor as it chugged beneath the hood. As he passed mile marker “152e” and watched the broken yellow line snake slowly back and forth around the bends of the curving road, he counted silently. Husani knew the exact number of curves between mile marker “152e” and Ascension Village. Around each curve, his gaze shifted expectantly towards the landmark he associated with it, like the leafless tree with the deformed trunk at curve number ten, which resembled a rabbit’s head.
At curve number seventeen; a long sweeping right turn around a grassy hillside, Husani shifted his eyes to the left in anticipation of the large, fist-shaped boulder just off the shoulder of the road. But mid-way through the turn, before his regular landmark came into view, a more impressive one appeared.
Kinah, a tall striking African woman stood on the side of the road, with her back arched and her arms stretched overhead. She looked to be about twenty five or so, and was clad in form fitting black leather pants and a jacket which accentuated her shapely, athletic form. Her complexion was a deep, chocolate-brown color, and glistened with perspiration.
Husani thought he was hallucinating, until as he passed by her, he saw his reflection pass across the lenses of her dark sunglasses. He stomped hard on the brake pedal and the jeep screeched to a halt, after….(end of excerpt)