I had this Rotary watch. It was ancient but never withheld the time. All that was required was a glance at it and the time becomes more apparent. Despite its age it was a beautiful piece of work. It was passed down from father to son and I was the latter. At work, one day, I had to take it off due to working in an oil and grease area. I never saw it again. As time proceeds untouched by human hands I wrote the watch off as an accident in time.
Some years later I was browsing in one of those myriad and mystical Eastern shops, selling anything and everything from watches to bicycles, made in China. And then I saw it! This beautiful watch studded with cheap diamonds on a golden background. A toy of the angels. I stood staring at it completely mesmerised by its unique attractive powers. I wanted it. And now. The bearded proprietor eventually realised there was a potential customer lurking in his shop and growled: You want what siree! Oh the watch yussire, you buy watch, me give you discount and me happy, you happy 2. You see siree this watch is beautiful and it tell you the time every time. BS I think to myself, watches just cannot speak. Now this gentleman with the funny cap tells me it can speak. I say: sir show me how the watch talks. The man under the funny cap gives me a smile I could have done better with Bin Laden. He carefully removed the watch and wound up the spring. (I thought it was electronic.) He lifts it to his ear and smiles even broader. Jussir me hear it talk to me. He hands it grudgingly to me and says. You listen siree: I listen and the watch says”Teek- tock continuously.
I, rather peed off and Mo*rig demand he turn the volume up and again that smile. And with the confidence of years he says: You make me cross siree and I get upset fast. I call the police or you go-away. As I was prepared to leave the shop I still desirous of the time piece. Maybe it has a mystical spell attached to it and it turns me into a cat. or a toad. I desperately ask him how much does he want for the watch: He says: I give it to you for nothing but you must never come back to this shop, eh. When I walked out clutching this gift from the angels my blood froze: There stood a huge black cat glaring at me out of venomous eyes. I broke the 100metre record. Later I noticed the watch was running backwards.
The quirks of live have a nasty habit of following you and eventually catching up with you. This trip has only one outcome and mankind and womankind just cannot outrun it.
In one of my esteemed articles: RAND RIFLES I wrote about my fishing trips when still a youngster of 7/8 years old. Of all the worst things under the sun We were fishing for Galjoen. Galjoen is a black ugly fish but utopia in an oven. Galjoen has the same characteristics as Cannabis. Once it is hooked it stays on the line and once eaten the poor addict will pine for it forever. Ja Galjoen. Galjoen is the national fish and you need a permit to possess or catch it. It is only found on the South African west coast. Yet we were catching it in SWA. I, being the junior partner of that long-ago fishing party now may end up in court for catching the South African national fish in Namibia. By the way: Smoked Galjoen and smoking galjoen in Namibia may still be legalised.
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