I’d been living in a mine field, it seemed, and now all the bombs were going off at once.
I frog-kick closer, desperate to recapture what has been lost.
I knew this was one of those micro-moments in a marriage when it pays to take a breath.
She says, “Just hum me a few bars” — as though you were the one in charge of this gig.
Privilege and racism are real, and not just in South Africa.
