No more laundry._FOLLOWING THE CAT_The Code of Silence_The Things We Do For Love
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No more laundry.
It's a mortuary fact that dead bodies should not be buried without a banana. Most of the dead people around our town drink too much coffee and spout their mouths out in public, then they just die, die, and the explosive parts of their personality gather energy.For example, Hilda Benderhole used to have the most terrible intergestion about the way my dog urinated all over her flowers. We all know that flowers need the dogs, especially in a drought. When Hilda died, her husband wouldn't even use those flowers for her gravesite. Bad Muju.Well, Hilda rang the bell a few days later. (Our town still...
FOLLOWING THE CAT
FOLLOWING THE CATHe stood on the siwww.onedoor.ccdewalk at the corner of the street. The matted reddish hair, the great green eyes, the head too big for the body. The stray cat had greeted him with an angry meow. “Poor kitty, you’re hungry” Peter had said, giving him a bite of the cheese and onion sandwich he was eating. That morning he had gotten up late and so he hadn’t been able to eat ( have) breakfast sitting at the table. The cat devoured the morsel and meowed, an imperious meow, as for an urgent request. Peter handed him another bite which the cat grab from his hands, swallowing it. “ You’re really h...
The Code of Silence
The Code of SilenceThe guest room atmosphere of the ex Minister of Police's mansion loomed with gloom, dead like a casket. Just a few lumps of soil and the earth would close in, burying his plot of atonement and redemption.Only the slow ticking of a large family clock which hung on the walls punctuated this uneasy silence. Just below the clock, a frame of the former president's picture swayed eerily, followed by a line of Muchemwa's political achievements and accolades. On the small table a mug of undrank coffee lay. It had long been left cold. The mug was placed on a copy of a daily R24 copy....
The Things We Do For Love
You are a statue of She of the Burning Clouds and you are being blasphemed against. This declaration had come nearly every day since the wedding was announced. You had heard it all before, but today seemed to be one of the worst. Before you stood two women, brides draped in layers of white embroidered blue silks, facing one another with looks of pure, unfiltered love. They were unphased by the raucous chanting outside your gray brick edifice. The protestors had shown up the evening before and stood just outside the small parking lot, their large signs describing how the brides’ souls would be ...