So there I was, having a later afternoon Johnnie Walker Blue before going in to dinner, when a God-Almighty bang or thunder-clap (as it were) ripped through my “end of day” peace, dashing it into a million shards (much like the crystal glass now on the floor – oh it would be funny if those just over the hill in Mams saw how we lived)!
Initially I thought that my rule had come to an abrupt and solid end, as God was making good on my promise to the voting populace, namely that we will rule till Jesus comes back.
No such luck – as I often worry that global warming will get us first.
My next thought was that it really was the end. The hordes had jumped the barricades and were headed for the palace. (“I began to breathe, to breathe at the thought of such freedom, stood and whispered to Gwede: belong. I held Gwede and whispered, with calm, calm: belong” – with thanks to Mr M Stipe)
I found myself hoping for the Second Coming, or at the very least; global warming. That would be a convenient truth.
Turns out it was just my man, Mr Sebenza Whataboy Ditlopo, Minister of Inland Security, shooting at the Starlings in the Fig tree – he uses the figs for a fantastic jam.
Anyhow, it seems the State Armory still has a few cannons that the Boeremag forgot to steal a few years back.
Their loss, as they say, is our gain!