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About Bloemfontein

Met this one gal—Daisy, she called herself—worked the docks in ‘44. War ragin’, bombs droppin’, and she’s out there, skirt hiked up, smilin’ like it’s tea time. Gutsy as hell—made me happy, that grit! Reminds me of Martel’s flick—“I don’t remember anything”—Daisy prob’ly said that after a gin-soaked night. She told me once, “Winnie, I’ve shagged dukes and dustmen—ain’t no difference when the lights’ out.” Laughed my arse off—truth in that, eh?

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The Vredendal River, oh boy, it flows by like the endless march of time. I once sat by its edge, thinkin’, "You know, the giddy heartbeat of human frailty is right here." I mean, it's like aboard a ship in the cosmic void, buzzin’ with nature's secrets. Not to mention, the vibe of the numerous street art murals on Louw Street. They shout out wisdom like, “We can do this,” echoing lines from Zero Dark Thirty: “We’re not leaving until we get there!” Kinda makes you nod, even if you’re wearied.

Klawer killing: State rejects guilty plea, says murder of Jerobejin van Wyk was premeditated