SOUR MEMORIES

Chapter 1: Let's take a walk

As the cold, wet bitumen paved road came into view, James’s sense of unease grew. The Volvo, usually his cocoon of comfort and safety, drove closely behind. It had been ages since he'd walked this far, but his mind was set on other things.

          As the storm loomed closer, his gaze darted between the darkening clouds, the cold bitumen, and the hazy cityscape. Despite the approaching chaos, he was lost in his own thoughts, taking in every detail of the world around him.

          The city, at its worst, was a maze of broken dreams and wasted potential. Beggars clustered around corners, some hopeless, some lost, all forgotten.

It was a stark reminder of the world he had once known, yet the pieces of his past were shrouded in fog. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial, some key that would unlock the memories he'd tried so hard to bury.

          Just as the Volvo came to a halt, James' escorts closed in, hesitant to let their master out of their sight. But James wasn't ready to return to the safety of his car. With a curt nod, he dismissed his entourage, commanding them to follow from a distance.

          The storm wasn't holding back, the first of it's unforgiving kind thundered and lightened up the heavens revealing James in his black Loro Piana coat and stubble beard.

          The loud noises grew familiar, summoning chills of adrenaline, then, it started coming back to him - each memory tugged at the next, the strings of recollection snapping into place with unnerving precision. James’ heart pounded, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as the storm raged on.

          Everything clicked into place with a gut-wrenching clarity. The colonial masters, the Portuguese traders, the chains binding his wrists; James had been here before. Not as the wealthy businessman he was today, but as a slave, sold for fifty pounds to a British duke. The past, with its ghosts and its shackles, had come back to haunt him.