Natal

Annoyed at the current state of affairs I pulled up next to the dusty Tasman Metallic X6 BMW. If I were into cars, I would have gotten one just like it but in “Vermilion red” (that’s what they call it). I pulled up next to his car - at the intersection my anger brooding like a battering ram.


My irritation was partially because the guy drove straight into my lane without looking and then also because he drove a nice car - that looked like shit. I was supposed to dispel the sensation but my personality sometimes took its toll and before I knew what I was up to …it was often too late. 


I timed the lights, moved in closer to his back window whining the bikes engine just enough to scare the crap out of him.


His eyes flitted to the lights and back to his rear-view mirror eyeing my next move.


And there it was, before I could contain myself my fingers flitted to the back window. 


In perfect text, clear for the world to see I wrote, “Bikers, please note I drive like and asshole, I earn lots of money and I’m not bothered with washing my fancy cars “.


Chase and Damien took flank and shook their heads. I merely smiled and re-geared just enough to speed off with little “whiffs” of smoke as the red light changed green. I whipped past and caught a glimpse of the guy’s HUGE eyes in my rear-view mirror. My speed was ample enough that I could still manage to reach back and give him the finger.


Chase and Damien followed me at a slower pace causing even more aggravation since I wanted to be sure that the man got the total glimpse of my back sticker stating boldly “BITE ME”. 


I despise sexism, and in this part of the world, it was a common trait.


I pushed the R6 to the extent where I could feel the engine running hot between my legs and flinched as I realized what speed I was driving at. At the rate I was driving six hours of highway was going to be halved.


I rebuilt my thoughts and finally sighed. Yes being a vampire was difficult for someone that already suffered from psychological disorders. It was difficult because being depressed wasn’t just being depressed anymore. With my extra-zoned senses depressed meant mentally disturbed, as in - jump off a building – disturbed. You can therefore understand what it felt like when I was mad.


I finally pulled over under a tree next to the road where the board stated  – Harrismith five kilometres. Harrismith is well known as a refueling stop for traffic going to Durban, The Drakensberg, Tugela and Golden gate. It is also the centre of one of the five wool-producing districts in South Africa.

It’s a pretty town that was founded in the mid eighteenth century that is rich with “Voortrekker” history. It was named after a British Governor and became popular in the later 1850’s due to its busy staging post during the diamond rush in Kimberley. The town has had a lot of tourist attraction over the years since it features historical buildings, Krekenberg that was a good part of the Voortrekker history, and then there is the Sterkfontein dam complimented with Bushmen and Neo Painting.


I pushed my strikingly white braid off my shoulder with a flick of the finger and sniffed the surrounding air. Nothing like the smell of tar and tire, I grinned as I mused over the openness.

Due to obvious reasons, we travelled at night and in smaller groups since weather wise it was cooler and smaller groups made us less conspicuous.


The wind bristled through the treetop and I managed to relocate my thoughts back to the present. There was the faint sound of approaching traffic and I braced myself for their approach. I tried to act lazed and stretched myself out over the seat smoking a menthol- still anticipating the conversation that was about to follow.


The moment didn’t disappoint.


Chase and Damien pulled off the road when they noticed the bike glistening in their headlights. I took another drag in an attempt to look unconcerned. Chase’s’ thoughts were screaming out at me.


“Don’t you ever do that ...?”
My mind applied itself tactfully, “or what”?


Damien pulled off his helmet and parked the bike.
“It’s not safe ...” he started saying when I interrupted in an effort to ignore Chase’s silent attack.
“Bla bla bla” I said.


“Not safe whilst we are human, not safe whilst we are dead. Honestly, what is the worst that can happen? Will I be deader than dead? “ I fathomed the delicate conversation.