He lights up a cigarette the old-fashioned way; with a matchstick. Like men did during the Cold War era, with their backs to the wind, protecting the flickering flame from death. Even though he’s only in his mid-thirties he …
It’s 2018 and I’m walking down a row of shops at O. R. Tambo International Airport, dragging my carry-on like a reluctant goat, when I feel something pull me. It feels like gravity. Only weaker. Like a strong draught. …
Someone emailed and asked why I don’t write about Tamms anymore, did we break up? (Ho-ho-ho.) It’s because she’s 10 years now, a few months shy of 11-years. And it’s a big deal. I know you must think, but …
He talks about God. A lot. Not that I mind those who talk about God, or even those who talk about God a lot but I want him to talk about that one thing that is the reason we …
Up the aisle, a bony man struggles to shove his luggage into the compartment above. His elbows look like a branch off a yellow-bark acacia. If you walked into his elbow by accident you would die from excessive haemorrhage. …
