The Passenger Guest


Of all the things in life I need, This I Knead.

Share With Me.

Comments

  1. Ayanda29 March 2016 at 08:28

    You write so well tsala! Tjo!!! Getting my hands on this asap

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I was younger last night.

(Written and Recited by Katlego K Kol-Kes) I was younger last night and I dreamed of candy Before I knew that sweet things Are often better left untouched. I was younger last night and I dreamed of forever Before I knew that eternity Is worse lived than the fairytales teach. I was younger last night and I dreamed of “I’m sorry” Before I knew that words can’t heal A broken smile or a shattered heart once surrendered. I was younger last night and I dreamed of holding hands  Before I knew that being too close for comfort Sometimes leads to burning tyre necklaces and forced intercourse. I was younger last night and I dreamed of home Before I knew that brick walls Are no safer than battle fields. I was younger last night and I dreamed of memories Before I knew that forgetting Would be the antidote to keeping my loved ones so. I was younger last night and I dreamed of death Before I knew that even an unwelcome acqua...
Read more

Tick-Tock: Boom.

Got to play around with a mystery game of time and setting scenic writing. Turned out the exercise was more mystery than descriptive, but it was really fun. Here's what I came up with. Can you guess the setting? The void seemed to pulsate with each sonar beep. “Where could they be? Where could they be?” The question looped in Stuart Corrigan’s mind, battling the panic frenzy happening around him. Bodies flew about the corridor pulling streamers and over-inflated balloons behind them. His eyes fixated on the bottom right corner on the monitor. Would it all really come to an end soon? Each minute seemed to take light-years to pass, and he was qualified to make this grand statement. The clink of bottles and cheap dollar store glasses, the type that his Nana kept for unwelcome guests on the ranch, syncopated with his breath and the rhythmic beeps. “Anything yet?” asked the head of Dr. Ewan Plitts, severed by metallic door frame. “No. N...
Read more