Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia – 1955
“October in Salisbury is known as suicide month,” comments the carpet salesman, who’s putting away his supplies, including the signed order for the shop. It’s eleven o’clock in the morning and the room we’re in is already stuffy and warm. “It’s the hottest and driest month of the year, people go a bit crazy.”
This last statement is said so matter-of-factly that I’m stunned into silence for a moment. In fact, I’m horrified and exclaim, “That’s a dreadful term!” My English is improving, and I’ve understood what he’s said. I’m still not as confident at speaking but I know that I must keep practising. “So, is it expected to rain anytime soon?”
He just shakes his head. “Man, animals, and even the vegetation awaits Mother Nature’s decision. But, with any luck, the annual rains will commence in November like they normally do.”
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