29.4.12

Look Tan, there’s a dead man on the stoep.

 



Evaluating the new year


Life had brought pleasant surprises with the new year, the love birds were not spring chickens anymore, they had laughed, fought, matured and laughed again.

Mojo and Tan continued to find each other incredibly cool and awesome, they still made each other’s hearts skip beats and race on. Even during those moments when they wanted to tear each other to pieces, they managed to remember the love they shared and declare it.

Bleh and Dana had survived the drama of the last year and continued to build their relationship hard brick by very hard brick, they had recently moved in together and that was going as well as could be expected but all were holding thumbs.

Look what the scenery dragged in.


One morning as Mojo and Tan drove to work, oh did I forget to mention? They moved in together, right before the year (2012) began. True to lesbian form I’m sure is what you are thinking…

Well Mojo , lesbian or not had a few curt words in response to that,’ there’s no time like the present’ and I tend to agree with her.

But let’s not get carried away, Mojo is saying something.

‘Did you see that?’ she asked Tan with childlike excitement in her voice.

‘No angel, I didn’t see it, I was trying not to drive us off the street and into some poor soul’s mid section, what was it?’ Tan replied with a mixture of impatient and tolerance for Mojo’s morning quizzes, she was used to them by now.

‘It looked like a man sleeping on the stoep on one of those metal benches, like you find at the park, either that or he is dead, and since dead appeals to the Sherlock in me, I will go with that, if it wasn’t for you driving like we are trying to get into formula 1, I might have seen clearly’. Mojo said mock irritably

Tan only managed a stern look in her direction,’ why don’t you remind me to slow down tomorrow, I’m sure it’s far from your dramatic expectations – probably someone who enjoys cooling off in the morning air or maybe they have trouble sleeping at night’.

‘I’m telling you, he is dead, they probably killed him and left him to rot, or maybe it’s a ghost, do you think it’s a ghost? He face was white and everything’ it was hard to break Mojo’s train of thought once she got going, the phrase ‘train of thought’ was coined with her in mind.

‘Ghosts don’t have white faces my angel, that is if they even exist’, replied Tan sensibly



The mystery of the dead man on the stoep remains unsolved.


The next day saw them racing past as did the next after that, since the week had drawn to a close, the mystery of the dead man on the stoep remained unsolved. In the meantime, they listened to Hallelujah by K D Lang, Mojo’s recent obsession, on the car radio and discussed the recent developments in Julius Malema’s trial.
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