Handaxe Manufacture in the Rift Valley

She wasn’t my type. She was too tall, and was a little unhinged.  I liked the fact that seemed keen to talk to me, because not many people do, so I laughed when she asked me if I was lost.  I wasn’t lost, I was just idling, wandering around town, staring into space.  I laughed and from on then on it escalated.  We sat in Coffee Republic and she told me about her job in the museum. She polished flint axe heads.  I thought that a noble profession, and probably one of the oldest. She told me that it was quite likely handaxe manufacture went on continuously in the Rift Valley for something like a million years. I was thinking about this when she pressed something into my palm.  ‘It’s the spare key,’ she said. ‘To my flat.’

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