I swung my collection of cellphone chargers between the stream of trucks, bakkies, Kia's and mercs - waiting for the the hiss of that one particular Peugeot to find its stop at my feet. It was almost like every other day, except today there were no pigeons... and she was pregnant. We exchanged our usual glances - her's with lusty mascara what-whats and lips pursed around that fucking e-cigarette. I said my usual thing; "howzit, madam?" and curled my finger round the charger chord like i had a lock of her hair in my hand. "Piss off!" she'd always say with the flick of her chin and smirk in the rearview mirror.
I looked at her rounded mass of new life and felt my jeans tighten at the thought of my flesh inside hers - growing into something together. "I said, get your kak out my window" she teased.
I stared - blessed with her attention.
"I see you're pregnant. How about something for the baby?" I suggest.
She rolls up the window. I see my reflection and a pigeon fly past.
Oh, but it is just like every other day i think.
The Peugeot pulls off with a screech and i'm left standing in the invisible smog of parenthood.
How could it be this elusive?
