Category: Short Stories

He hadn’t déjà-vued in years.  When young it had happened quite frequently. “Oh, that’s a déjà -vu,” someone told him, “it happens to me sometimes.” He had seen the dog die. It was a short-muzzled

“My eye – it’s gone!”  But Roz hadn’t heard.  Not above the rumble and roar of Seven Serpents plummeting and twisting its riders into the abyss.  Then sudden darkness, a hissing of hydraulics and the

I was never going to make it at school.  In the 1940s, when I was being shoved into grey flannel trousers and white shirt, one was either slow or bright. According to my teachers I

It was in the army where Marc Dalby acquired a taste for Russians.  The bulbous stubs of a lurid red sausage, deep-fried in oil, had cauterised the taste of the mess food ladled out to

“Who said that?” Silence in the boys. “I repeat – who said that?” No one’s going to own up; the boys know it; they also know who said it. “Was it you, Wilkinson?” No, it

“I’ve just killed someone.”  He had never imagined saying these words, but that was before the motorbike had swerved wildly to avoid the sharper end of his car as he accelerated into the traffic.  How

Bought for a song was the word which went around when Sunrise Properties acquired a mansion-that-was and, using all the tricks of the bricks, transformed it into their flagship office.  Within, though, all was not

Frances Holgage gave blood for the last time in the winter of 2007.  She did not know this at the time. “I see you’re up to 92 units,” said the man as he checked her

Written in 1996, soon after Model C schools’ (formerly government, whites only schools) cricket fixtures began to include more than just other Model C schools.) The road through Rondebosch was beginning to gleam with haste