By the next morning, the rain had finally stopped.
The sky above Durban was washed clean pale blue, a few lazy clouds drifting over the ocean. The city felt softer somehow, like it had exhaled after holding its breath for days.
Ruri sat at the small café near her campus, laptop open but barely working. Every few minutes, her eyes flicked toward her phone waiting, hoping, pretending not to.
When it finally buzzed, she nearly spilled her coffee.
Sphesihle: Ngicela ukukbona ntokazi
Bengithi sithi ukuyikhipha kancane.
She stared at the screen for a moment, heart thudding.
She typed, erased, typed again.
