Like a pill

The faux warmth of the heater gently nudges its way through my 4-degree car. Stifling a shiver, I will the beady red eye in front of me to change to a more amenable green. But I am no wizard. And so, my gaze shifts from the road’s naysayer of movement to the North London sky above and beyond. The way the sun gently breaks through the pink tinged candyfloss clouds… and I am on the balcony of our holiday apartment at Cabana Beach Hotel in Umhlanga. The gentle noise of the waves at low tide; the same skyline. The smell of the sea, my hand in his. This happens sometimes; dust and warmth penetrating my day, infiltrating my skin, like a gust of wind that comes and goes with reckless insensitivity, dangling home before my soul. As the moment swirls around me, I look Yesterday straight in the eye, grasp it around its middle and take a bite.


Author & Storyteller: Andrea Zanin

Andrea is a writer, wife, mother and dreamer; also the author of this website. She moved to London in 2006 to earn £s, travel, see bands and buy 24-up Dr Martens—which she did, and then ended up staying. Andrea lives in North London with her husband (also a Saffa) and five children. She loves this grand old city but misses her home and wishes her children could say “lekker” (like a South African) and knew what a “khoki” is.

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