You can read about some of my “travels” here in a series of short stories.
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The Mexican and Bierpens.
Due to the word count rule I shall add an bit of my story, The Chronicles of The Mexican Horse Thief to my photography posts.
The Chronicles IV
He had the habit of coming to the service late, every time. Now considering that we had two a day in the week and up to six on the weekend, that is a lot of times to be late. One of the pastors had had enough and chased him away. When the service was finished a stout cripple guy that had a room with his wife and kid across the way from my dorm came into the room, plus the never seen before house mother, I kid you not. Big performance. He, the cripple guy is some sort of head Pastor, he gave Tony the what for what and Tony swore at him as only a coloured from the Cape Flats could. He told Tony to pack his stuff he was out, only down side to that is I would have to do Tony’s duty that night and it was my day off.
It was one of those miserable windy rainy days I have come to hate here in the Cape. Then Theo got a job out of town for a few days. The church gets this work for inmates and they get a bit of money, but 30% has to be given back to The Ark. We pack some kit, divide our tobacco stash, Theo rolls the most professional looking home rolls I have ever seen. I suppose that 25 years in the Big House has something to do with that. With Theo gone I must roll my own smoke, what a bloody joke. It just falls to pieces. I make a deal with another ex-con, he rolls me smokes I give him tobacco. Why struggle?
He had the habit of coming to the service late, every time. Now considering that we had two a day in the week and up to six on the weekend, that is a lot of times to be late. One of the pastors had had enough and chased him away. When the service was finished a stout cripple guy that had a room with his wife and kid across the way from my dorm came into the room, plus the never seen before house mother, I kid you not. Big performance. He, the cripple guy is some sort of head Pastor, he gave Tony the what for what and Tony swore at him as only a coloured from the Cape Flats could. He told Tony to pack his stuff he was out, only down side to that is I would have to do Tony’s duty that night and it was my day off.
It was one of those miserable windy rainy days I have come to hate here in the Cape. Then Theo got a job out of town for a few days. The church gets this work for inmates and they get a bit of money, but 30% has to be given back to The Ark. We pack some kit, divide our tobacco stash, Theo rolls the most professional looking home rolls I have ever seen. I suppose that 25 years in the Big House has something to do with that. With Theo gone I must roll my own smoke, what a bloody joke. It just falls to pieces. I make a deal with another ex-con, he rolls me smokes I give him tobacco. Why struggle?