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.
Continue reading “The Interview”
They played in the rain to escape the mundane. 100 metre sprints, their expression – release.
Abe – “Playing in the rain is freeing but tiring”
Kwa – “Another run?”
Abe – “Nope. You’re funny.”
Looking at each other, they burst into laughter.
Continue reading “Fake obedience”
The guitar strums from Khruangbin’s, “August 10”. Yaya is 12.
His character is Methuselah years. His thoughts, beam to light memories.
Mum calls. “We are leaving for the studio in 15 mins.”
Continue reading “Nani”
Jeru loves the marshland.
Lying in the grass, the scent of lavender lingers past. Sun kisses whisper tales of a lover’s touch.
No barking dogs on his Pop’s site or a howling fox in Hermits Park.
Continue reading “Tail Off”
My 2 by 4 Inglish, bare grammatical errors. I man, result to broken English.
Deh propa name be pidgin, mix am wit our local dialect, code switching.
Boarding school initiated, adding its own rules n ting, strengthening a language tool.
Come back to London Town with a heavy accent. By the time one realises, in this “melting pot” from another “melting pot”. Cockney sounding, awite mate, chill out! African cockney, a uni mate once said to me.
Continue reading “Inglish”