Category: TRANSVAAL BLUE SKIES – A True Story

All of it hers. Well, theirs. But mostly hers though. The kitchen towels, the mugs, the plates, the cutlery, the pans, the pots, the taller pots, the coffee pots, the teapots, the porcelain cups, the sauce jug, …. Wait, the sauce jug?? Oh well, appearances are everything, is it not? You…

Ferry was a misleading name, perhaps. Two tree trunks tied by a collection of mismatched planks, nails sticking out and the largest collection of hemp ropes, that was the “ferry”. It was presently nicely splashing across the ochre waters to the far shore. The only truly reassuring thing was that…

She was trying not to be, but she was impressed. The squat truck literally growled, a predator waiting to be unleashed. Technology had usually little to no interest for Suzanne. Men and their toys, right? As a man, François was duty bound to pace around it, follow the station quartermaster…

Sun like a hammer, streets like an anvil. But for the blessing of the breeze blowing in from the lake. Dusty shade inside, sliced by the sunbeams of Persian shutters. The suitcases are by the bed, unopened, as yet. Suzanne stares at the floor of the hotel room. Bare wood…