I wake with a snort, roused by the clatter of a ballpoint pen hitting the floor. It spins idly to a halt, put there by the same peaches-and-cream striped paw now tapping one end of it. How easily the modern quill is reduced to a plaything! Blink, blink, blink. The cursor on my computer screen winks expectantly. Above it, the line: To breed or not to breed â€¦ Blink, blink, blink.
According to an arcane superstition pre-dating the Enlightenment, I can be a bitch at times. We all can, now and then, but my predisposition was determined by the position of our sun in relation to a specific arrangement of celestial bodies a few hundred light years away, at the time of my birth.
A projectile the size of a child's fist shot across the lawn and buried itself in a crouching rhododendron bush. It was summer in the early 1980s and we kids were home from school. My brother, his head crammed with potions learned in the science class, had cobbled together a handful of innocuous kitchen ingredients and turned them into something entirely more volatile.
The Oprah Winfrey Show is about as compelling and gruesome as road kill: no matter how much it grosses you out, you just can't help looking. A particularly bloody lump of matter recently made it on to our small screens, courtesy of the queen of talk shows, in the shape of a posse of smug self-help gurus whose brand of snake oil has seduced millions the world over. Yes, it's The Secret.
World oil prices swirled higher on Wednesday as traders looked to stormy weather that could threaten energy facilities in the United States Gulf of Mexico. Market participants were also awaiting the latest update on crude reserves in the US. New York's main futures contract, light sweet crude for delivery in September, rose to $72,56 per barrel.
Missionary work in KwaZulu-Natal these days is a far cry from handing out bibles and preaching to rural villagers and has adapted to offer desperately needed services to the community -- such as flying doctors to remote clinics each week.