Dance

Dad had called Ntini to come and help herd of cows. Empana, his brother, repeated Dad’s sentiment in case Ntini was paying no attention.

Their voices faded in Ntini’s captivating horizon. His mind on cloud 9, his gaze and mouth jaw-dropping to the north.

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The Interview

On a thunderous windy day, the sun was beat. The sweltering heat from the whipping blades of the sealing fan’s speed. A hot breeze forgoing the cooling tease. Outside the flat, the forecast read forty degrees. Inside the flat, the thermostat read forty five degrees. A supposed environmental discomfort.

Lingering goosebumpy stress due a pending panel interview in two hours, stress? Just like unidays, late preparations were to blame. This was for a shapeshifting opportunity of work and play, earning moolah whilst at the game. Sheesh! No pressure to bring him to his knees then.

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