The Mailwoman: Chapter V

Hugh Hamilton

"Agreed — do you have anything in mind?" asked Hugh.
"I've heard 'Le Meridien Chari' is quite good."
"Hmm. That sounds expensive and French."
"How much have we got, anyway?"
"About 9806 Central African Francs," replied Hugh with an uncharacteristic accuracy.
The punishing N'Djamena weather — peaking at 45°C — soon saw them take refuge in the first hotel they came across.
"How much a night?" asked Hugh as Ben attempted French with a bemused employee.
"By my calculations," began Ben, "not much."
"Let's hope so."
They hauled their baggage — sans co-ordination — up the rickety stairs and into their overly-humble room.
"Nice," said Ben without reason. "Anyway, what were we doing?"
"Ah, I believe we're delivering this letter." Hugh held up the small envelope to cue Ben's memory.
"Oh, right," remembered Ben. "I sure hope you have the malaria tablets."
"Me too," said Hugh, dangling a dead mosquito threateningly above his mouth before deciding against eating it.