Happy New Year, Walter.

It was another Saturday morning spent rolling kneaded dough, dipping pieces in hot oil and tossing and turning and packing delicacies.

His second order involved moving from one end of town to the other to deliver samosas, doughnuts and chapatis for a chama meeting. The pay had been good but now as he rolled the dough and looked at the time he felt as though someone was pouring the hot oil steadily along his spine.

Things had started out great and he had more orders and more time to expand his business, but the food industry as he called it had challenges. On one side was the desire to indulge but on the other the desire to keep fit and stay lean. There were gyms springing up in every neighborhood and the first thing he saw on TV at 5am was a fitness show.

His customers could always eat and then burn the calories, but Maureen had suggested maybe adding a fruit basket to every order just to let people know he cared. It was lame. How could he say, “have a doughnut and some fruit after.” It was like saying yes when you meant no, which had never gone down well with him. Then there was Ruth, the woman had been calling and sending him messages asking how he was and looking to meet him. She was beautiful, but it was just that. She was something to look at, but not everyday and he wanted to focus on his business because the bank had loaned him money and were expecting a deposit every month.

It was a new year to most people but to Walter, it was the first step into either debt or the successful establishment of a dream.

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