100 Papers

Liesl Jobson

Description

Liesl Jobson's collection is aptly termed "flash fiction" or "prose poems". It comprises 100 short pieces that are beautifully impressionistic - the literary equivalent of a well-times photograph. Jobson was born in Durban, South Africa. Her poetry and prose has been published in journals and anthologies in South Africa and abroad. She won the People Opposing Women Abuse women's writing poetry competition in 2005. She as also awarded a community publishing project great from the Centre for the Book under the auspices of the National Library of South Africa in 2007. This is her debut collection which won the Ernst van Heerden creative writing award for 2006 from the University of the Witwatersrand. She is a freelance writer, photographer ad bassoonist.

Informations

• Publié par: Botsotso Publishing
• Date de parution: 29 décembre 2008
• Nombre de lectures: 40
• EAN13: 9781990922060
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

100 Papers

a collection of prose poems & ash îction

Liesl Jobson

First published in 2008 by Botsotso Publishing Box 30952 Braamfontein, 2017, South Africa email: [e-mail] website: www.botsotso.org.za

© in the text: Liesl Jobson Cover photograph: Liesl Jobson ISBN: 978-0-9814068-1-7

We thank the National Lottery Development Trust Fund and the National Arts Council for their support:

A section of 100 Papers was approved for the degree Master of Arts (Writing) from the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg.

Cover & text design and production Anna Varney http://www.artslink.co.za/artstudio

To my mother, who taught me to read

and my father, who taught me to read music.

Contents

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31.

Shopping List The Organist Bump How the Oreo Stole Christmas The Science of Curves Litter-Bugs Interval A String of Wooden Fish Bassoon Lesson Thorn Bridgework Siyabonga Means Thank You Text Ashram Spider Salad Perfect Timing Cell Zebra Teeth She Cannot Love Her Own Air Clutter Epilogue for a Gun-Running Son Kleintjie’s Saint Vanilla Silk Prescription Viola Practice Waiting for the Lotto State Theatre The Virtue of the Potted Fern Suspect Where is Boeta’s Skedonk? Dusters

1 3 6 8 10 12 14 15 17 19 20 23 26 29 31 33 34 35 36 39 40 41 43 45 46 47 50 52 54 57 58

32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62.

Late My Mother’s Diary The Piccolo Blues Slam Fist Mountain Flaw Mango Chutney Purification Eavesdropping Parrot Syllabus Sawubona Mfowethu! Oprah’s Girl Terror Hot Prometheus’s Child Diner Mrs Popcorn Duet Naysayers Promise A Hundred Times a Day Overdose Juicy Lucy’s Salvation In the Biscuits Christmas Eve Picnic, Pretoria Green Socks, White Lies Overture Bionics Practise Prognosis New Word Goggles

59 62 65 66 68 71 73 76 77 79 80 82 83 86 87 88 89 92 93 94 95 97 99 100 102 104 106 108 109 110 111

63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93.

Fan Mail Lollipop Sun-Dried Tomatoes Under my SAPS Star Beached Deities Saviour One Hundred Babies Vessel Catch the Bouquet Aromas Petting Button Infectious Cooking Smarts The Corner of my Eye… Mr Fixit’s Lament Idioms Unpronounceable Tune Song Dove Window The Air of Words Harp Under-9 Cricket XI What You Really Need What’s Left Pickle Management of Snake Bite Wonky An Owl at my Ankle

113 117 118 119 120 122 124 125 127 129 130 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 140 141 143 146 147 148 149 151 153 155 158 161 163

94. Dead Heads 95. The Jailer 96. The Christmas Box 97. Rocker Surgery 98. You Pay for the View 99. Bogtown Mazurka 100. 100 Papers

164 165 168 170 171 173 175

Shopping List

“Bread, oil, yoghurt, mieliemeel…” said Liesbet, clutching the phone on her shoulder as she unhooked the last roll of white loo paper from the spare bathroom. Back in the main en-suite she switched it with the empty spool. Would it last until she got to town to buy more herself? “That all?” Roelof ’s voice echoed on the cell phone. She hesitated, fingering the last scrap of tissue stuck to the empty cardboard cylinder before tossing it into the bin covered in frilly yellow gingham like the toilet seat cover, tissue box holder and toilet roll cosy, now empty. These items of bathroom décor were gifts from her mother-in-law, hand-stitched and given them to Liesbet at her kitchen tea, with Roelof ’s sisters and aunts and cousins looking on like witnesses. She would have to ask Roelof to get more loo paper. The last time they ran out because she hadn’t written it on the shopping list, there was an all-night fight. Liesbet had wanted to buy it herself, because Roelof always bought pink to match the tiles and the towels, or yellow to match the crocheted toilet seat cover. His mother had taught him the importance of matching things. She said it showed a man’s feminine side. White tissue paper told an intimate story about Liesbet’s private place, details she wasn’t ready to share with Roelof. Not yet. Against the pink paper, she could not detect the faint spotting that heralded each failed pregnancy. Against the yellow, the subtle changes to her secretions that accompanied her fertile period were invisible; she couldn’t see the discolouration that spoke of infection. “We need soap, Handy-Andy and…” “Hurry up,” he crackled. “Loo paper – please buywhiteloo paper.” The phone went dead. Had he heard? The reception at the farm was poor. She was two-and-a-half weeks overdue – eighteen days

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