Ken Kamoche


Otieno loved the car like his own child. He could sit for hours while he waited for Mzee, the old man, just admiring the sleek, shiny bodywork. He knew the car very well. When he heard the engine purr, he understood its language in a way Mzee never could. He heard what it was telling him. It spoke in gentle tones, as only a new Mercedes could.



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