Mustafa Qadri

Dad left yesterday evening and the apartment has been noticeably quiet ever since. I’ll miss the old fella’s company. It was good to have him around for three weeks, even if he had five pet subjects he mentioned frequently every day. In other news, the taxi driver who threw our money back at us returned and was all smiles. He apologised for being so rude and we apologised for not accepting his price. His name is Ashraf, a portly and well-built man with a greying moustache. He happens to be a police officer by day and a taxi driver by night. Just the perfect kind of person to get on the wrong side of…

Dad was over the moon and felt ready to leave in the knowledge there won’t be some dude roaming the streets in a beat up little yellow hatchback looking for a bearded foreigner with pretentious spectacles.