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Showing posts from 2017

Haven

Tuesday.
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 …

Jack of All

My professional life is marred by the ordinary.
By the humdrum thank you ma'am.

It remains puzzling, even in my semi-retirement phase.
I am not someone with an aversion to "success" or money.
I was raised to have a strong work ethic and I tend to show up, and I’m 100% tied-in to my endeavors. I've been at the receiving end of accolades and positive performance appraisals,  and I have over time broadened my scope of learning and my skillset, and I have tried to keep up with the times and technology.

Still...
Always in circles.
Round  & round.
Forward; then back to square 1.
Everywhere, but up.
Lateral moves and Plan B’s.

Hmmm…
Maybe I am a dreamer?
Maybe it’s because I’m the youngest sibling, the other one?
It could be because I’m fickle?
Or easily bored?
Or difficult?
Too demanding? Not demanding enough?
Too nice? Not ruthless in the least.

Yikes, maybe I think too much?
Maybe I should think some more!
Or deeper?
I could go back and make like Freud and delve into…

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.
Sneak-peaking.
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.

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

Storylines

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 …

Tales of a Fairy

Every road she takes leads her to a place far, far from where we were born.

Destiny has a hand in this.
The signs are all there:
Like her Nana, she is a wanderer with a heart too big for a small world!

So she embarks on her journies to places very different from our own, where people speak in a foreign tongues and the heat is intense, and deserts are the colour of sunshine.
She ventures forth, on her own, a young woman taking a course less traveled with a brave heart and an iron will.
Taking her out of the bosom of her loving home.
Taking her off on a tangent so like my own.
A road that will lead to a new chapter.

It was meant to be.

She is our princess, the heart of our band of woman, sisters, nieces, girlfriends; she is the glue that binds us, the thread of gold that runs through our family tapestry.

Our wish for her is always Happiness.
To know the pleasure of True Love.
She deserves Love of the best kind:
The kind of Love that is gentle, but passionate.
Love that crosses oceans a…

The Road to Al Dhaid

I wake up from a deep sleep, startled by silence and a bed devoid of him. I lay spread eagled, entangled in white cotton sheet, a sense of solitude overwhelming me as soon as I open my eyes.

The desert heat clings to my body while a pale moon tries it's best to break through thick, brown silky drapes. I drag myself up, feeling a twinge in my lower back and pull the clawing nightdress down thick hips and thighs.
Middle age bringing unwelcome changes.

My feet hit lukewarm tiles as I stumble the short distance to the window, hanking the brown open to reveal the the mosque the colour of sand.  In the distance it's soft lights are alluring against a dark sky.
The call to prayer begins as I stand silently staring out at University City Road. No screeching tyres, honking horns, or irate drivers to disturb the peace. Only an ocassional early morning traveller making his way along the quiet streets of sleepy Sharjah.
The adhan is soothing and I am instantly alert, a sense of urgency gu…