the pharmacist

What a lovely face she has, framed by golden wavy hair. She works in the pharmacy and I stop by often, just to talk to her. We share stories, laugh and everything could not be better. Then, out of the blue, her boss dies. He was a young, but experienced doctor and it is very sad that he will no longer be there.

To pay my respects to him, for he was also her father and, if I want to marry her, I have to undertake a strengnous journey. I hop on a bike and start biking up a mountain. After a while it gets too hard to ride the bike, so I continue on foot. The woods become more dense and thorny. After a couple of hours I arrive on the mountaintop, where two statues are waiting for me. They are man-like figures, each three meters high and crudely formed out of redish wax. Suddenly I find a metal club, like a baseball bat in my hands and know what I have to do. With all my might, I swing at the figures, but nothing happens. I swing again, even more forceful and manage to make a small dent in the waxen face. I swing again. And again. With each strike my strength increases and the initial dent in the face grows. I look up and the first figure is a now a heap of misshapen wax and the second one is gone.

Having fulfilled my goal, I leave the mountain and find myself on a boat, where we are having the service for the pharmacist. The beautiful blonde pharmacist is also present and in contrast to everyone else wearing black for mourning, she is wearing a wedding dress.


The Stag

Walking down a mountain with two friends. A small creek idly bubbling next to us. The sun is shining, but it’s not overly hot. We are having fun, drinking beer and smoking cigars. I haven’t seen them in ages and we’re rehashing old stories from school.

When we come to the bottom of the of the hill we are suddenly at the airport and one of my friends is gone. A friendly flight attendant materialises. I look at my friend and suddenly he is dressed as a pilot and also is now African. I myself am also dressed as Pilot and we start to converse in pilot-y terms when I notice that my friend talks like a character straight out of “The Wire”. With the help of the flight attendant we get through security in a breeze and get not into an airplane, but a taxi.

In the taxi my other friend is waiting for us and the driver, an elderly woman asks for the address. Quickly we decide to go to a strip club and I give the driver the address. She did not hear that we are going to a strip club, but starts ranting against the young people going to strip clubs all the time. We in the back are giggling because she does not know we’re going there. She has trouble finding the address and we ask her to just drop us close at a hotel. There I have to pay her 45.000 XAF, but looking at my wallet I only have 1000 XAF bills and start counting. She does not like that and starts ranting again. I offer some of the coupons I find, but she does not accept them. Finally I find 5000 XAF bills and can pay her.

We enter the building and find ourselves in a big courtyard. The surrounding buildings are grey and tall. A group of about 50 men is standing in a big circle listening to my friend giving a lecture. He explains salaries of people working in retail, they earn a lot more than we do. The courtyard shifts into the garden of a company I used to work for. Between the emerging people is a current colleague and he starts adjusting the lens of the projector to get the image in focus.