Monthly Archives: August 2013
My fingers still smelled like a mix between hashish and Mrs Patel’s honey when I tried opening the door to Joyce’s Fast Foods. After my impromptu rendezvous with Mrs Patel, I was really motivated to kick the old booze in the twat. I had seen a certain pureness in Mrs Patel’s eyes that you hardly […]
The Blacksmith The elevator ride down to the vaults was an uncomfortable affair to say the least. Wind sat, folded in between Leshy’s bulk and Vodianoi’s bones, and contemplated the surroundings with academic interest even as the drop threatened to introduce his insides to those around him. The elevator cabin was a relic of some […]
Her hair smelled like sandalwood and she tasted like honey, warm honey dripping from a heated table spoon over her lips and breasts; a few hot drops over her hip bones and the insides of her thighs. I remember the sex—I’ll never forget that, but I couldn’t remember how we got into bed. Mrs Patel […]
Why don’t we speak about the rapes that happened during apartheid – those perpetrated by the SADF and MK?
He looked at his passport photograph and thought about how much more handsome he looked then. Before the woman. Before the church. Before the pastor. Next to him his wife stood silent. She stopped speaking after their first night together, but it only bothered him in public places. At home he’d carry on with his […]