TANGANYIKA
 After Jim Luster died he went to Tanganyika. He woke up at the wheel of a new car, and the long, black roll of road unravelled into the valley below like a big snake. The landscape was brown, its hills undulating and peppered with stick trees.
He woke up hot and thirsty, his hands on the wheel, his eyes fixed on the nearby trees that were the colour of a deer’s hide. The trapped air within the car was suffocating, so …