1. A conversation
2. A good feeling
3. At the time
4. Dreams and scale
5. An X
6. Bret
7. Gerrard
8. Knock on the floor
9. Matchboxes
10. New mix
11. Newspapers
12. Purple
13. Sebastian
14. Steve
15. Wisdom of gardens
16. What would it be
17. Dropping wine glasses
18. Two memories
19. The Ninja Tunes
20. When she agreed
21. Tattoos
22. Back in Joburg again
23. Wind
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Bret's a good friend. A friend from Joburg. I will miss him and his quiet confidence
when he leaves Cape Town after this trip. We have not always been friends. I will
miss his way of impulsively leaning over to the table next to us and drawing,
scribbling, on their tablecloth - making them do the same. Bret who only laughs
when things are funny. Bret who'll listen. Bret who'll travel the distance between our
ages so easily. Bret psychological and growing and flowing. Watching "Clueless"
in bed, in our hotelroom in the morning, in the dark.
We have not always been friends and now I'm thinking of leaving, aware of staying,
somewhere between the moon and the sea on the beach here tonight in Cape Town.
Thinking now about Bret and we have not spoken in ages. We may not speak for
ages. We can be like that. We could be that we won't ever speak again.
I said a lot to him about my father and I thought of when I'd returned from the UK,
from London. I told my father in his garden that we, people, can barely grasp
ourselves. That the tides and swells around us, that move through us, are infinitely
larger than we are.
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