Saturday, July 26, 2014

People are living there

Hurrying home down Greatmore street, just ahead of the grimreaper-like cold front from Antarctica - it's ripping and shredding at my soul - a friendly man on aluminium crutches, also in haste ahead of the impending storm, clicks even quicker past and shouts hello (where's he sleeping tonight?).

Hungry but keen men and adolescents wearing fezzes scurry to a mosque in Ramadan's last days as an olive-skinned and curly-headed boy, most probably not called Oliver, says "please sir, can I have money for bread"; as the first slaps of water fall.

Woodstock, Cape Town.

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