Cindy-Lou Dale
Writer, Reporter & Photojournalist
Fiction
Chocolate revenge: I had dosed the soft almond centres with concentrated laxatives. With four chocolates in his stomach, Schmee had consumed the equivalent of twelve doses of laxatives. Every few minutes he dashed off to the loo. After about an hour I expressed my concern as he was sweating profusely and looked quite frantic. Further...
The dressing: The CEO, Chelsea Laing, was a recently divorced lady of around thirty-five, whose face wore a permanent scowl and was combined with an expression indicating a bad smell was somewhere nearby. Mrs. Laing, as she preferred to be addressed, was a vertically challenged and somewhat rotund lady with a disposition of unrelenting disapproval. Further...
The child support officer: “Stop!” the voice from behind her boomed. Sandra froze. I’ve been caught. I just knew this was too easy, Sandra thought. What am I going to tell my children? Mummy’s been bad and she has to go to prison. Sandra turned slowly. Further…
The future changed: Flora and her young family lived in Phomolong, a small traditional village on the outskirts of
The geriatrics ward: Wilson Adams hobbled from one side of the ward to the other, peering into corners, hidden crevices and even opening drawers. “Shanks, I’ve lost me marbles. Have you seen me marbles?” Further…
On a dark African night: Forcing her eyes open Sandra thought she glimpsed a movement out of the driver’s side window but put it down to the monsters that were plaguing her journey back to Tsumeb. Then, in what appeared to be slow motion, her windscreen caved in. Further…
Kim: The pounding rhythmic music could be heard outside the entrance when I brought my convertible to a stop at
Uncle Neil: Sunken and hairless with blue-veined, papery skin exposing his domed cranium, he seemed nearly devoured by his clothing. His face sat low on his shoulders, pitched forward, as if deprived of the support provided by a neck. His upper lip protruded like that of a turtle’s beak and his cheeks were sunken. Further…
With a little help: Mrs. Burrows reflected and then continued. “Evil. That’s what your mum called him - evil. But you know why he’s doing this, don’t you. It’s because you left him, and his ego couldn’t take that. And now he wants to get back at you.” Further…
The office predator: It felt as if all eyes were on her as she strode down the corridor, past the glass-fronted cubicles, leading to her new spacious office. Further…
Soldiers away: Mum nodded, patting my knee in acknowledgement, and nodding some more in that all knowing way only mother's do. I felt intrusive in what was clearly an especially private family moment. Further...
