Chapter Three
In the morning; Sean woke up and staggered to the shower, bushed from countless days of enduring sleep deprivation. He was too weak to even properly cleanse himself. He just stood under the trickles; letting them glide over his body.
It was clear that he needed to get his issues checked by a professional; but the fact is that most hard-headed Africans don’t treat depression, anxiety, insomnia and such. They call them imaginary problems.
Sean soldiered on to work looking bug-eyed and exhausted.
At the headquarters, the premises were lit up with activity. Sean slowly and absent-mindedly strolled through the lobby to his office door with his face bowed down.
At the corner of the hallway, three officers were chatting amongst themselves a few feet away from Sean’s door, spora
