Fiction & CNF

African Feeds

by David Kerr   The stretcher bearers, too late, pull the blood-stained woman from the rubble. Garikayi closes the file, drags it into his Somalia folder, and mentally slots it alongside the Kenyan bombings. He feels the warmth of creative work rising. Yes, he is...

Wallpaper

by Abbey Khambule   Before you left you asked me to move a small vine of bougainvillea inside until winter had passed. It’s now inscribed an arch over the window, creeping over the graffito “Ek Is As Gevolg Van Jou” sketched above it; drooling and draping over the old...

Water

by Abbey Khambule The tide grows. A charm of firefinches flies over the promontory, breaks open and tumbles on the wind like roller pigeons; retreats inland, fleeing the ribboning tongue of the sun setting in the ocean. I imagine it to be of fledgling Cape...

Victoria Falls

by Confidence Seleme   +++Hurry up Buti, make it quick. I don’t have all night!” +++He was her sixth and final client for the evening. After this, she would hurry to her flat to take a long shower and try to wash off all she had seen and done. Some people...

Weeds

by Mpumi Cilibe   There were moments when I felt that she was far stricter and harsher with me than with the rest of my siblings. But I must admit that there were also times when I felt her tenderness seeping through the tough shell that encased the molten toffee...

His eyes were blue

by Abigail George   “God took you out of my life for a reason.” Arms as pale as milk, black eyes, little foal, innocent and tender as Zelda Fitzgerald, genius wonder boy of the family – in this dark house we celebrated his birth in the same way my mother...

Black Boy Fly

by Thabiso Tshowa   Black Boy Fly is a story or maybe it’s a game about the human race about how we can be loving and hurtful at the same time but if you play your cards right you can actually act a poes and still get the girl of your dreams. But it goes deeper...

Czardas

by Noel King   Dust dances in the light above my son’s violin. I am recalling the days I never heard him practise. Being a CEO, I was busy, away a lot, when I was at home it was down-time for all three of us. His mother heard him practise. I wish she was here...

A Day In August

by Palesa Mazamisa   The phone rang. Mpumi watched the numbers flash on the screen, urging her to pick up. She didn’t recognise the number, so she continued watching how with each ring the vibration inched the shuddering phone along the tiles. She let it flash...