Cliff Buchler
2 minute read
20 May 2020
6:20 am

Your number’s up at last, Jacob

Cliff Buchler

I wake up with my phone ringing. Hope it’s not Naa-kaaan-dlaa. Heh-heh.

Manual telephone exchange. Picture: Wikipedia

Had the old farm telephone system still been operative, the cables would melt in today’s world. I doze off with the thought. “Heh-heh, Nkosa is that you?” “Of course, Jacob, who else. Tee-hee?” “Did you see old Cyril sweat it on the box? And late – again. Remember how I was accused of arriving late. At least I always had something constructive to say.” “Jacob, Jacob, don’t you catch on? He had nothing constructive to say because I wrote the script”. “Do I hear you right, you old devil? The things the nation wanted to hear about, like booze and...