Snow landed on the mountains with my arrival in Knysna. That evening, icy rain denied the 103 yr old drought, instead drenching me in my search for a beer and bearings. I found the former at a pub called Olde’s Pub. The latter took me until today. I’ve changed my intention. My sadness had smiled at the beauty of the lagoon, the pretty lass at the internet cafe and the smell of coffee at Chaplin’s restaurant.
It took me 3 days to rise from the dead. I’ve given myself another 3 days to figure out how to stay alive. And i won’t make it easy.