The Big Read: Greed reaps a bitter harvest
11 July 2016 - 10:15
I am sitting on the stoep. The sun is low. The afternoon is setting in. Dusk will follow soon. The land is dry, drier than I have seen it in the nine years I have been coming to this stoep, this farmhouse, in the Free State. The winter has been harsh. The rains have not come. The grass is dry. It is tinder.
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