La Rochelle 2021
B U D D I N G A U T H O R S
A s t o r m i n t h e s l u m s
She looked up at the heavy sky. After walking for almost an hour, she could not drag her feet any further along the dirt road. Helplessly, she sat down and thought about her uncertain future. Her day had started as it usually did. The laundry had to be folded, the beds made and the baby fed. The nature of her mundane routing encompassed her mind. She did not have to think about anything. Throughout the day she had to avoid any eye contact. After all, her sole purpose was to work. However, she was so accustomed to this that she took no notice of it. She stood up and continued on the road home. The familiar power masts loomed beside her. Their elaborate structures were harsh against the cloudy heavens. They scared her immensely, despite their inanimate status. Her fear reminded her of the missus. That woman’s fury was as unpredictable as the thunder rumbling above her. Today was no exception. A cold shiver ran up her spine. No, she could not bear to think about it now. It was too soon. She heard a distant scream. It echoed in her ears. An overwhelming feeling of dread inhabited her body. Seconds later, her panic was intensified by the appearance of an infuriated figure. She stood there, completely dumbfounded, as the missus’s anger was unleased upon her. Even though her confidence threatened to desert her, she refused to yield. Why would she admit to something she would never dream of doing? The road seemed endless. The humid atmosphere suffocated her. She clawed at her throat, begging for release. A stranger would think that the young girl was deranged. She stopped abruptly and stretched her arms towards the heavens. The earth cooled as the first drops fell to the ground. The icy air filled her lungs. Relief liberated her from the pain that maimed her heart. The rain washed away her regret and subdued her defeat. The humiliation she felt was indescribable. The more she refused to accept the blame, the more it was thrust upon her. “Go steal somewhere else,” the madam spat at her. With that being said, she apologised for the misunderstanding and left. The baby cried from the next room, but she could not do anything to comfort him. Her numb fingers clasped the straps of her bag and her clumsy feet led her out the door. She was soaked, but it did not bother her. She had walked a fine line between dishonesty and honour. Though her honesty robbed her of her sole source of income, it maintained her dignity, which was worth much more than any pay cheque the madam could have given her. Cecile Vegter
S w e e t s o r r o w s
Some say that joy is greater than sorrow, for what is the point of a ‘lightless’ existence? Others say that sorrow is the greater, for how could we know joy without pain? I have walked a path with Joy. She talked and laughed the entire time, yet I became none the wiser. I then fell into step beside Sorrow. He never said a word, yet I learned a great deal from him. Newton’s laws state that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. For every night, there is day. Every light casts a shadow. The stars are only visible between dusk and dawn. That is the way of the world. Maybe that explains how such a beautiful creature could be filled with such sorrow. Comfort is volatile. It can be snatched away at any moment. Grief, however, is certain. Once you meet him, he will always be there for you to fall back upon. You see, some meet Grief at an early age, so when he goes knocking on their doors it is like greeting an old friend. Some have never met him before and when he stands on their threshold, they do not know what to do. Either way, it is never easy. How could it be? Some asphyxiations will forever go unexplained. However, the shot was clear. I just wonder what finally pulled the trigger. What caused the downfall of Snow White? They say Icarus laughed as he fell with the wax searing his skin. There was a bitter triumph in falling when he should have been soaring, because for a moment the sun knew of him too. The skies are livid, but the heavens rejoice. The hearts we have lost are angels they have gained. I am furious. The grief is unbearable, yet somewhere in my heart I rejoice because her suffering has ended. It is just another one of the sweet sorrows of life. Annamarie Mans
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