http://www.flickr.com/photos/remyomar

I’m standing on the footpath outside my office building.

It’s 10:23pm. Who the hell stays at work til 10:23pm? The ambitious and the lonely – that’s who. I remember when I used to be ambitious.

It’s been seven months since Camille broke things off. I’ve had dinner with her a few times since and it’s been horrible. The roles have reversed; I’m the emotional wreck, while she’s the nonchalant, sarcasm machine.

It’s funny how much she’s changed in those seven months. Cutting her caramel hair short, getting a love heart tattoo on the base of her back –things she never would’ve considered doing during our relationship. Was I holding her back all that time? What’s happened to her? Who is she now?

I take in the streetlamp-lit city for a moment then limply hold my arm out for a cab. One pulls up and I get in.

“Where to, boss?” the skinny, black driver asks.

“Marsden Place.”

He nods then asks, “You OK, boss?”

I decide to share my thoughts with him. It’s always easier unloading on a stranger.

“It’s my ex girlfriend, man. Just thinking about her.” I pause. “I saw her the other night and…she’s changed, man. It’s like I don’t know her anymore.”

He accelerates through a yellow light and takes a corner fast and wide.

“Let me tell you a story, boss. I grew up in Ghana. When I was young, me and my cousins used to spend a lot of time at my grandfather’s cocoa plantation. We used to help him pick the beans and run around having fun. Just being kids.”

He brakes hard at a red light and turns to face me.

“Anyway, there was this beautiful river nearby. And we used to get hot from playing, so we would go and swim in the river and drink out of it. I didn’t realise as a kid, but days like this are what make life worth living. This is one of my best memories, boss. ”

The light turns green, he slams down the accelerator and refocuses on the road. I peer out the window at blurry suburbia, thinking he’s done.

“I returned to Ghana last year,” he continues. “I took my wife to see where my grandfather’s plantation used to be. They turned it into a mining site, boss. And the river, you cannot swim in it anymore. You cannot drink from it. There are dead fish on the riverbed. There is DDT in the river, boss.”

He cruises through a red light. I doubt he even notices it.

“I began to cry and my wife asked me what was wrong. I told her, don’t worry, you will not understand.”

He gives me a subtle, solemn nod. It incites a hot, piercing feeling behind my eyes. Tears aren’t far off.

“But I think you understand, boss.”

“I understand,” I say, gazing at the road ahead as a tear drops from my right eye.