The Zulus arrived in their numbers to collect the head, of Robby Zwinbe. Robbie’s zinc built shack offered no protection, to the Zulu weapons of mass beheadination. He called out to God, even though he knew that in times of mob insanity, the power above sat back to enjoy the horror show. Rob had been the victim of the Murambatsina purge, and subsequently accepted the choice forced on him, a 3 month walk, to the Land of King Arthur.
The thunderous sound of the indunas, brought his shack down around him. As he stood in the pile of rumble, looking into the many blood thirsty eyes around him, one final thought entered his mind.
The newspapers added him to the statistics, Arthur licked meat oil from his fingers, the indunas washed their hands to find empty plates.
And Life continued to find away….