They stood hand in hand and looked at the dump. The history teacher with the clear blue eyes, one that skewed under stress, and the art curator with the soft cheeks and big beard. A dump for sure but their dump nonetheless.
Read more
Latest Stories...
"I can only tell you things that happened as I saw them, and what the rest was about only Africa knows." – Oom Schalk Lourens
The stars of a summer sky, the long grass rustling in the breeze, my best friend sitting next to me…and PJ Powers.
If you fell on the ice, you had to make fists because some super-jock speed skater would almost certainly skate past you at that exact moment and chop your fingers off. Everybody said so.
Her friends walk past, in and out of the red, giggling. His friends stand clear. Bomber jackets, L.A. Gear. It’s Friday night.
He stood day-in-day-out peddling reality to cynical commuters. I’d roll by with my window down anticipating the familiar greeting, ‘Hullo Mees Unives!’
The Queen is dead. I’m in church. We rise to sing the national anthem. God Save the King. I’m ready… I can’t do it.
Read more
Picking pieces of dry grass from her school jersey, the girl braces as she bites. Butter overload (a sort of PTSD). But, you know, mom wouldn’t be mom if she wasn’t hacking a block of unsalted cooking butter and depositing the wedges onto brown bread with marmite…
Often young children would run up and down the gravel on the side of the busy rural roads, their fresh produce lifted above their heads, displayed proudly in the air.
I was born in a borderland; a strange pocket of time that obscured context like a great celestial body eclipsing the luminescence of the all-seeing moon.
Everyone in South Africa knows that walking around in dodgy areas at night (especially with a wallet and cell phone; even without a wallet and cell phone) is just dumb. But when one runs out of petrol, what’s the option?