Archives for the month of: November, 2011

Here is a bonus short story,  like you could expect from Shades of gray. I hope you find it interesting, and please feel free to leave a comment .

What the hell ….where’s my body? That’s the first thought that came to me when the smoke cleared, I was staring at a burning wreck and it was night fall, there was no moon

but everything had a silver grey sheen to it, it was strange. I was drawn to look at theoverhead bridge. The side guard rail was torn off and I knew straight away what hadhappened, this was one free fall I was not coming back from.

The car was mangled, the front was twisted and the driver door was meters away fromthe wreck, the rear had broken off and was unharmed except for a single gash on the side.

The rest was in flames…. I still had the question, where the fucking hell was my body?

My thinking was getting clear then dread came over me. I must have been driving. Then I found myself at the driver side and I found what I was looking for… was me, good looking me, my dark brown hair was burned off, my face pulverized and charcoaled but I was still in my seat. Thank you seat belt, for holding me in place so that I could burn slowly and end up being well done. I tried to cry but no tears came, the sadness was overwhelming and it came in waves, then it stopped, there was only emptiness. I was dead, so I might as well enjoy it and I just had to get back on the bridge.

I found myself on the bridge, it was clear but something was out of place. Where was the traffic? It was about nine and the roads were never this quiet. I closed my eyes and stilled my mind and then I saw two cars hurtling towards me at breakneck speed, they were dragsters.

The driver in the black Opel saw me first, braked suddenly, catapulting his car over me and crashed on the same spot where I went of the bridge, the car was now teetering off the edge, up side down. The white Toyota did not slow down and slammed into a light pole and caught fire, the driver and his passenger were going to feel very hot. I was going to have company!

I watched the Opel patiently as it ever so closely teetered over the edge, amazingly the driver and his passenger were alive, they were immobile but awake after getting their insides scrambled ….I could hear the screams of the people in the other car as they got roasted alive ….it was starting to smell like pork around here, yeah, I know I’m dead and thinking of food but I digress!

I got closer to the upturned driver, he tried to scream, maybe he saw a ghost. Ah hell I am a ghost! The man’s scream was just a whimper, it was more plaintive. I read his thoughts “Please don’t hurt me ….Don’t kill me …I have kids” and I thought back to him “You dumb shit, you were the one doing the racing…and you are worried I am going to kill you?”

There was not going to be any rescue services for him. I debated with myself whether I should help the vehicle tip over or kill him, put him out his misery, he was seriously hurt internally. I heard sobbing. It was weird, like coming from all direction.

I peered over the upturned car and saw the passenger sobbing. She was hovering very, very, slightly off the ground.

She looked at me and said “My babies, my babies.” I looked back in the car and it was the passenger. Yes! Now I had a friend, I was happy, happy and she had one smoking body from what I could see, I wouldn’t mind having a life after death celebration with her!

I could hear a truck rolling heavy and I saw its bright headlights. Cool, maybe more mayhem for me. I stood in the middle of the bridge waving my arms like a lunatic hoping he would see ….this was not working, so I appeared in front of truck

The truck hit me full on, I was stuck onto the front; this was not happening to me ….no way, hit by a damn ghost truck! I don’t know where I am going but I am starting to feel very warm.

I finally came to, my head was still fuzzy, images finally became solid then I was back to reality. The place was familiar, I was outside the church at the beginning of the old Main Road, and anyway what was I doing outside a church? I am an atheist and disliked religion and didn’t believe in the supernatural, until now

I finally came to, my head was still fuzzy, images finally became solid, then I was back to reality. The place was familiar. I was outside the church at the beginning of the old Main Road. What was I doing outside a church?  I am an atheist and disliked religion and didn’t believe in the supernatural, until now.

I was drawn inside the church. What had happened when I got hit by that ghost truck? I was drawing a blank, I just couldn’t remember. I had been to this church before. It was not any different from what I remember.

Hours must have passed. Had I zoned out again? A chunk of time had just passed me by and I couldn’t remember where it went. I just stood there at the back row. Slowly I started to hear all the thoughts and emotions of the place, first in whispers, and then louder, the sadness, happiness, the guilt, there was much of that. It was all exhilarating and. confusing at the same time.

Then I heard it, it was a shuffling noise, somewhere in the front but I couldn’t see anyone. “Whose there?” my voice trembled and I was starting to feel weird, dirty, oily, repulsed. My skin crawled.

“Show your self,” I blurted out as inched forward, more out of fear than bravery. I prayed the few clouds would move, so moonlight would brighten the church…….and then I saw it and my bladder weakened but I was dead, so I didn’t have to worry about soiling myself. My mouth was dry, the ugliness was getting closer


Good day folks, greetings from the butt end of the world, the great Republic of South Africa, It’s a cloudy, slightly windy and, it’s either me, or the weather is messing with my mind, I can’t tell whether it’s warm or cold!

Living in KZN province, is like living in the candy store for anyone who loves life  and if you like to put pen to page sometimes, it can cause thoughts to flow uninterrupted, that is how my first ever short story started. It was based on something I heard on the radio and I toyed with the idea for a few hours and then the story practically wrote itself, it took one hour to have it done and I thought, great hanging dildos, what the hell just happened?

But I got over myself and did a quick edit and was done. It is now part of a compilation that I call Shades of gray. I call it Running Late, because fate can step in at any moment and ….

African mythology is rich in all kinds of creatures, some good and benevolent, others you would want an in-law or much despised relative meeting, just kidding, although I don’t like one of my uncles, and maybe cousin “what’s his name”, but I digress. These creatures are truly nasty and do all manner of bad things, from setting your things on fire to doing some very naughty things to you [or your lover] while you are asleep. They are called Tokoloshe and are a very nasty piece of work.

So if you’re ever stay over in my neck of the woods, sleep with one eye open or you may find your TV set hurtling across the room by an unseen hand or find yourself strangely aroused.

sweet dreams

Alongside, below the Millsburg Railway ran the Tuzan River, you could say it was the natural boundary between Millsburg and Havensview; it was actually more of a stream that thought it was river. From the height at which the hawks fly, Tuzan must seem to disappear and reappear at irregular intervals.

At least we could brag to other towns that we have a river, and we have our “own three gorges” [like in china], through which ran our mighty Tuzan river. Okay so that was way too much of a stretch, on both accounts. Our valley was nevertheless still breath taking.

Writing has been a recent pursuit for me, especially on a more sustained basis, I wrote for sites like Triond, which I left. I used to write for Helium on a regular basis, but I want control over my content and any potential earnings, so I took whatever content I had on Triond, plus new content not seen before and packaged it in a compilation called Shades of gray

So while I was writing for these content farms, I was thinking of a novella or even a novel, and I found just the inspiration.

I am no artist or other but getting that picture for Detour certainly gave me some sense of accomplishment, considering it was done on the spur of the moment. People who have seen the picture have a reaction to it, to some it’s the light, to others, the grave site monuments or the greenery

It turned to out to be the perfect day, and when we finally got to the Yard, the birds were singing, not a soul present (they were all dead!), the setting was magnificent, we clicked away at whatever we could find, while jokes about the dead were coming thick and fast. We ventured deeper into the yard, the older part, and Rex was giving me a look that said, like let’s get the freaking hell outta this place, post haste.

In all fairness I’m the one who insisted we go near the river end, I had a hunch it was the older part of the Yard, next time I visit the place, I’ll stay in the more familiar areas. I won’t be making that mistake again! We took turns taking pictures. I remember I kept on thinking, we should go more nearer to one grave just out of view, the single lonely one you can barely see but we never got to it, our attention kept on being turned away.

About two months later, at a get together of regular bunch of friends, the topic of the Yard just came up, then realized something interesting, at that part of the Yard, there were no birds singing.

I like alternative music, and Pantera’s music hits the spot every time. I was listening to the song Cemetery Gates. It was a pretty lousy night and the plot just showed up in my head, all wrapped up in a neat bow, easy to start writing now, you may think.  Yeah right, as I said, it was all wrapped up, now I had to unwrap it, and it was going to take a while do that.

Writing for fun is great, get an idea, and write a few lines, maybe a page, that part is easy. Making a major attempt at writing is whole other story, if you pardon the pun. It took me about two hours to write seven pages of detour, then I felt I needed a holiday, for about a three weeks I wrote something, discarded it, write, discard it again, swear, just gave up ….then I would get inspired, write two pages, edit what I have, then change it in places, swear some more, then I would think, why did I ever break up with my Ex, now I don’t have any one to fight with!.So far I have about thirty pages.

Detour is being written in different parts, the beginning, the ending, somewhere in the middle, different themes (only to be scrapped five minutes later), some of the characters have changed themselves against my wishes.

I was a roughneck in my youth, man saying that feels like I was born in nineteen something, just thinking about makes my bones creak. I  had the odd booze related black out, okay so all of it was booze related  , hell who knows , I could be writing about stuff I couldn’t remember.

I do remember going to the Yard with my buddies in my school days but most of it is a blank, …Maybe Jack will help me remember…..Whoa ….maybe on second thought , I don’t want to have more of those blackouts.

Ha! I finally managed my first post on wordpress, after finally getting my theme almost like the way I wanted. I spend most of my internet time on Facebook, making a nuisance of myself, haha….and also showing folks my first attempt at writing a book, called Detour.

A group of friends while driving home, decide on impulse, to take a different route home, one they have taken many times before. It would be a decision they would regret forever, their lives would never be the same again.