01
May
That little rat is always at our door. He likes the shoes. We’ve put out traps (humane) and moved our footwear indoors. He still comes.
Maybe he’s bold because it’s his year. A year of...
Storytime
30
Apr
It’s a nice alleyway, but noisy.
Whenever someone walks through, turns on their bike or scratches themselves, the dog (house 95/5) barks. Not just once: bark, bark, bark, bark. A piercing metronome.
The boys (95/12) seem...
28
Apr
I pick apart the hot dog bun with my thumb and index. It’s dry, so I add more ketchup. The pump is overexcited or maybe I’m too nervous, sugary tomato sauce lands unnoticed on...
26
Apr
For a few seconds, I suppose I go into a kind of trance. I feel a sensation on my forearm and assume it’s a raindrop, auguring a Mexican summer hailstorm. Then I glance down...
25
Apr
I haven’t read a book in ages, not felt the dry crisp paper between my fingers or lost myself in the black and white text on the pages. Forever. Everything is digital and fast,...
24
Apr
I am the most sought after ventriloquist in the Karoo. Each day a crowd gathers on my stoep. They have mottled intentions, some wanting to ooh and others wanting to aah. Some are sheep....
22
Apr
And so it goes. I feel weight lift off my legs and hear a heavy thud as 40 kilograms of chocolate Labrador leaps to the ground. There is the scratch of nails on the...
21
Apr
In the quiet evening light cast over the plains, the caravan squats on bricks, bobbing in a gusting wind. It has been placed in position with care, intentionally hidden behind a giant gorse bush. ...
20
Apr
The walkway along the promenade is covered; a tin A-frame roof supported by heavy square iron poles. That’s for the typhoon rains, and the summer sun. I leaned on a pole waiting for my...
16
Apr
The young girl plays in this corner of the sandbox. She is white tights and black patent leather shoes. Her piano fingers push trucks around in the sand, weaving little truck tracks. The other kids,...