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”
A polar night, the sub freezing temperature of -55°C in Bunjland. An island where +55°C is normal. Climate shifts in earth’s adapting.
Continue reading “Bait”
Zanso and Yafi were two friends from wayback when. Nursery is where it began. Mums, Qafi and Ofsi will drop them off during the school run. The gents 20 year friendship, matured like the morning birdsong.
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”
After an Atlantic pole temperature shower, forgoing hypothermia. Cold therapy to awaken the dormant body organisms. Dem ones hinting on the lazy and procrastinating withdrawal symptoms.
This ain’t the time, tings fi do. He hit the town to meet the peopledem. Moments cherished by Manonim. The social network before the social network. The real before the virtual.
Manonim wore his black two-toned Kitenge loose tracksuit. A tear on the side. He had worn it for many sun’s, showing its age.
Continue reading “Kitenge – Two”
The Council aristocrat walked the streets. Listening to a podcast on the world’s ancients. An example was the Kuntumare from Kuntu. Twin geniuses of a scale unheard on this nether island. The superstition was, twins brought a shift in consciousness to the family and country.
The Council was an internationally known, locally accepted, holistic community movement. A veteran was named aristocrat, for their commitment, service and respect.
His mane was locked. A groomed forest beard. A beaming smile showing his chipped tooth. Tailored camouflage jacket made by grandpops. Nakata oozed dapper.
Continue reading “La Policía”