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12:25. Darkness clawed at the charcoal metal, penetrating the thick steel frame to find Eve shivering inside.
Outside an angry wind whipped bushes and branches into a frenzy; threatening to topple trees and cables. She shivered as she made her way down Vangaurd Drive heading south to find her young man who would be waiting for her.
The rain pelted misty window panes with raindrops thick and heavy. They zigzagged their way down to drains already full, and bursting.
Voortrekker Road was deserted this time of night: gone were the fruit peddlars and persistent beggars. Gone were the daring jay walkers criss-crossing busy streets and exuberant gaatjies hanging out of overfull taxis.
All the lights inside the smarties-building were downed, or dimmed. It's occupants were down for the night, or getting down.
Either way, Eve was alone on the darkened street.

Frantic eyes darted around the intersection, caution clawing at her like an over-eager cat; fear simmering just beneath the …
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Monday, Funday.

Monday dawns with a quiet ease.
I wake up to the sight of the moon, firm and round.
I appreciate it in silence, not ready for him to know I'm awake.
Making the pleasure all the more enjoyable.

It seems the 1st week of Spring has cast a spell on me.

He wanders out of view and I hear bathroom noises.
It's time for me to make a move.
I stretch, lazy like a cat, wanting to remain here (in this spot) still warm from sleeping bodies.
I am entangled in an endless battle with linen.
I fling the offending cotton off heated, sticky skin; hot flashes spreading like veldfire.

The spray of the shower seizes.
Grinning I burrow back in under the covers pretending to sleep.
Gonna stay here and wait for the moon to reappear, wait for my first coffee, and enjoy the intimacy of the early morning when Blouberg is still asleep, and it is just us.

The world is calling: news from exotic places: desert drives, old towns, local foods & picnics with newfound ad…

Right here, Right now.

The wind whistles & howls, shaking up Cape Town ; waking her weary chidren.

Dazed I wake up for a second time, opening heavy lids to find that Monday had dawned softly. Ribbons of red are slowly beginning to caress the darkness as I stretch out lazy like a cat, lying in the middle of the kingsize bed, my thick winter frame engulfed by fleecy bedding the colour of candy floss.
"Sweet!" I utter out loud to an already empty house as soft light filters in through aluminium blinds making stripes like tattoos on my pale skin.
I should get up, but I am perplexed by the day which stretches ahead of me demanding nothing!
I'm at odds, not used to so much time on my hands, "busy" being my usual setting.

I'm beginning to like this new reality.
The ticking clock by my bedside sets a steady rhythm, as all around me the world is on the go, moving in circles. It's as if the world's forgotten about this one, tiny space. In my cocoon I groggily sit up, twisting m…


Furrows deep and pronounced line my brow. I contemplate them,  willing them away, stroking them gently, each stroke meant to iron them out. I am their canvas, they are my storylines.

I seize my ironing, and listen to their tales.
I feel the cold to my bones!

Not the usual Cape Town cold I grew up with in the Southern Suburbs, but an iciness matching any day spent in Tewkesbury more than a decade ago in the UK.  The kind of cold that requires down feather jackets and knee-high fake fur boots.  The kind of cold that leaves sleet on windshields, and soup pots full.
Central heating!Pah! Our homes in Cape Town are ill-equipped for this kinda torture!
I hug my hot water bottle to me like a long lost lover, it's squishy, and pot-bellied and jiggles when I squeeze it. Raising the white mug to my lips, I slurp the almost scalding coffee quickly. My fifth cuppa and it's only 10:42am. Two bars glow bright orange at me. Mikey hogs the heater, and Georgie sits on top of the TV cabinet like a …