Daria's diary

6Sep

Next of kin I didn't ask for

The cousin's name is on that form. I read it three times before I could say it in my own head without my mouth going dry. He put my name down. He sat at a typew…

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5Sep

Two Things Face Down on the Bedside

The Jiffy bag was hand-delivered. That is the part that sticks in my teeth. Anyone could have posted it. They chose to put a person at my gate at 07:12. Father'…

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4Sep

The museum gets another piece

The quiet days are the worst sometimes. The loud nights in the Karoo with the UV torch and the hiss in the jar — those I know what to do with. Today the house w…

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3Sep

Both kinds of cornered

The adder is sealed in the back room and I can hear her breathing if I stand still. Slow. She is not panicking. She almost took my boot tonight and now she is c…

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2Sep

Cold mug on the table

I did not drink the tea. The mug is on the table this morning, cold, with a skin on top. I looked at it when I came in from brushing my teeth. I thought: that's…

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1Sep

The tea is not about the tea

I did not sign the page. I want that on the record before the day eats it. The pen is still in my jacket pocket. It will stay there. Quiet day. I cleaned the ho…

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31Aug

The page I would not sign

The order is closed. Three snakes out, one cheque in, my name on it. That is on the chair next to the phone I have not picked up. I did not sign the page. That…

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30Aug

Two complaints, one pin drop

The man again. Worcester this morning. He was in Clanwilliam last week and now he is here and tomorrow he will be at a Citrusdal garage waiting for me to follow…

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29Aug

Three injuries, no mirror

I did not look. That is the thing I keep coming back to. I drove two hours with blood running into the corner of my eye and down my neck and I did not look once…

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28Aug

Three centimetres of window

The gash is still bleeding through the sleeve. Six centimetres is not a lot. The window I rolled down for Pieter Viviers was three centimetres. He did not lean…

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27Aug

Two bruises, one borrowed voice

The farmer grabbed my elbow. His hands were the size of dinner plates and the bruise is already purple under the hot water. I keep doing arithmetic I did not as…

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26Aug

Three short and the joh

The assistant's hand was on my waist for half a second longer than a count and I stepped out of reach without turning my head. That is the only move I made righ…

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25Aug

His hand on the frame

The cologne was still in the cab when I parked. I sat for a minute, windows down, letting the Cederberg air try to fight it. It lost. A man leaned into my windo…

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24Aug

Two things dripping

He said it loud. Klein-Bokkeveld girl, in front of his cellar hands, like he was reading a label off a bottle. I did not flinch. My face is good at not flinchin…

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23Aug

Coordinates of something not opened

No run tonight. No run tomorrow either, maybe, because I haven't decided, and the not-deciding is its own decision and I know that and I'm doing it anyway. The…

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22Aug

Still not opening it

I finished the relabeling. Both of them. The corrected labels look exactly like the labels I would have written if I had been paying attention the first time. N…

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21Aug

Twenty Days, Still Closed

Twenty. The door has been closed twenty days. I want to lie and say I forgot to count but I counted this morning before coffee, which is the worst kind of count…

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20Aug

The Spare Room Is Not Spare

Twelve days. The Land Rover has a film of dust on the bonnet now, which is the kind of detail I would normally photograph and post. I did not. I am not posting…

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19Aug

Eleven days still

I woke up late enough that the light was wrong. Not morning light, not really afternoon — that flat in-between that means I have nothing scheduled and no one to…

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18Aug

Rehearsing being gone

Eighteen containers still there. Not doing the maths. It isn't that I can't count. It's that counting means deciding, and I am not good at decisions that involv…

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17Aug

A Day I Stayed

A day where I didn't pack the kit. That's worth writing down because it almost never happens. I cleaned the holding room. Scrubbed trays, checked humidity, coun…

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16Aug

Flat-rock ate, I watched

The containers all got fed. That's something. Eighteen now. I counted wrong yesterday or I lied to myself. The flat-rock ate the one I dropped in, and I watched…

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15Aug

The lamp did not need me

The flat-rock is not eating. I tried a smaller cricket today. I dropped it in at noon, watched the whole thing. The scorpion did not move. The cricket walked ov…

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14Aug

The shirt is still on top

The bag is still under the shirt. I checked. Not because I was going to pack it — I told myself I was looking for a clean towel and my hand just went to the cup…

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13Aug

I went three streets in

I fed the stock twice today. They didn't need it twice. I needed to do something with my hands and they were the nearest hands-shaped thing. I took the Hout Bay…

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12Aug

The third one finally ate

The third Opistophthalmus ate sometime between yesterday and this morning. There was a husk in the corner and she is plumper in the way I had been afraid to che…

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11Aug

Things I typed around

The researcher texted this morning. Just an order. Three Parabuthus for venom extraction. I typed back the price and put the phone down. I almost typed somethin…

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10Aug

I paid it and nothing moved

The fine. I paid it. I sat at the counter with the four mugs lined up like a roster — blue, chipped green, the one with the faded leopard, the plain white one t…

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9Aug

Still in the corner

The Parabuthus is still in the corner. I put a second wet cotton ball in this morning because the first one dried out overnight and I felt bad about it, which i…

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8Aug

Still holding the draft

The text is still in drafts. Six days, or seven — I keep miscounting because I do not want a real number for it. I almost sent it twice today. Once while the ke…

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