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Submissions (4)

Monday, 25 August 2014 17:43

Don't Look

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She's done this before. One look of recognition across the room is all it takes.The ancient air-conditioner in the venue can't keep up with the demands of the situation and the space becomes unbearably stuffy halfway through the discussion. A pity, Laura thinks; the author launching her book is refreshingly witty, but luckily she's not her responsibility tonight. The publicists are in charge. Laura arrived in town this morning for a meeting with the editor of their classics series. There had been some discontent with the way the man was handling the latest project, but the discussion went far more smoothly than Laura had anticipated. She decided to attend the novel launch on a whim. The author was new to their house, but she knew that the expectations were high for her debut, a local erotica novel. Taking on a manuscript was always a gamble; but mommy porn seemed to…

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  • Staff Bronwyn
After her highly acclaimed debut The Tin Church a decade ago, Rosamund Haden returns with her second novel for adult audiences, Love Tastes Like Strawberries, which opens with an obituary. When the painter Ivor Woodall dies, his partner Tony Fox organises an exhibition of Woodall's most recent portraits and extends a special invitation to the opening to all members of Woodall's Friday life drawing classes.As the invitations reach the individual artists whom Woodall had taught, each triggers uncomfortable memories of events from the distant or more recent past. The sisters Françoise and Dudu, Rwandan refugees, return to Cape Town to find their feet again after Dudu's reckless act of stealing a car. It is Françoise's portrait that features on the exhibition invites. Françoise is hoping to reunite with Timothy, a book seller and writer of obituaries. But Timothy seems to be missing. His friend Stella is also searching for him.…

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  • Staff Bronwyn
Wednesday, 27 August 2014 20:15

The Break-Up

By
The Break-UpIt was an awkward situation. I was standing there, in front of my best friend's door, with a cardboard box and an old suitcase in my arms, feeling foolish. I could hear her drying her hair inside. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the bell.'Coming,' Marlene shouted, switching off the hairdryer.When she opened the door, the dark hallway of the flat building was flooded with sunshine. It was the beginning of a hot summer day, the humidity in the air promising rain later in the afternoon. Marlene's damp red curls looked on fire in the bright morning light.She hovered in the doorframe, staring at the box and the suitcase, twisting one of her curls between a forefinger and a thumb.'Hi.' I volunteered.'Hi, come in.' She disentangled her fingers from her hair and swept her hand aside in a gesture of welcome. The flimsy bathrobe she was wearing came undone…

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  • Staff Bronwyn
Wednesday, 27 August 2014 20:21

Whirlpools

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'Sexy!' I teased, as Jo climbed over the rickety fence separating the parking area from the railroad tracks. I held up the ruffles of her long flowery dress. She was wearing black panties underneath, all lace. I handed her handbag over and followed her to the other side.She pulled down her dress and readjusted the shoulder straps. She wasn't wearing a bra, I'd noticed. I looked down at my own cotton pants and t-shirt and felt a bit shabby. I hadn't even bothered to bring a bag; all I needed was stuffed in my pockets.A heavy, rumbling sound in the distance brought my thoughts back to the task ahead.'Let's cross before it gets here.' I pointed at the metro train advancing towards us and took Jo's hand, helping her across the tracks in her high-heeled sandals. We made it just in time before the yellow-grey chain of wagons rattled past…

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  • Staff Bronwyn