The first thing that stirred her was her upbringing, growing up like an Indian; in a knot of relations. In an old four-bedroom mansion in Parklands with big windows and a restored roof. A house with an old carpet …
The guy on the right has never eaten chicken in his life. He doesn’t know what chicken tastes like. He doesn’t eat chicken. He also doesn’t eat fish. Or meat. He doesn’t know the pleasure of the first sip …
The night was off to a lousy start from the beginning. It wasn’t the sort of night you’d remember when you are old and graying and your grandchildren are holding your hand and studying the wrinkles on the back …
Look at that mane. That metaphor of youth. Of invincibility. Of bottomless faith in his capacity to thrive in this moment – even this unstable moment curtailed by a flu. You may not know it but this hair carries …
You met a girl outside Kenya Cinema. She wore baggy stonewash jeans. She – left handed – scribbled her telephone number on a scrap of paper you borrowed from a shop inside. “Is this a four or a nine?” …
