Kendo killed the engine before Prosti Hotels. On three quick paces, he sauntered into the bar. It had started raining lightly. Inside the bar, he stopped and anxiously looked sideways. Despite the fact that prostitutes inhabit the hotel, the hand that gave a touch of class on the interior decoration did wonderfully well. That notwithstanding, the usual cigarette smell dimmed the air freshener. From the receptionist he got Shaba’s room number. The expensive face powder had done its magic and the black spot on Shaba’s face was well hidden. His sadness took a bow before the purest form of love sitting before her make-up table viewing her beauty in front of a wall mirror. The powder had given her a heavenly appearance that Kendo found irresistible. His eyes softened as he opened his mouth.
“Y
