Little did they know that sending John to town would end in heartbreak.
It was already noon when John insisted on making the trip. He wanted to help his grandparents, despite their repeated warnings.
“Transport from town isn’t as reliable here as it is in KwaMashu,” Grandpa explained. “You might struggle to get back before dark.”
But John was determined. His grandparents lived in the rural village of Loskop, KwaZulu-Natal, while he was used to the faster pace of township life. Confident that he would return quickly, he left.
As the hours slipped away, so did their peace of mind.
Grandma’s eyes rarely left the large wall clock. Every tick echoed through the quiet house. The silence became unbearable, filled only with fear and unanswered questions.
Grandpa paced the living room endlessly.
“Please, sit down,” Grandma pleaded. “Worrying won’t bring our boy home any faster.”
Yet neither of them could escape the weight of waiting.
Darkness settled over the village. The wind whispered outside, but John was nowhere to be seen. Every passing minute deepened their anxiety.
Then, at last, the kitchen door opened without a knock.
Loud music burst into the silent house as John walked in, smiling, unaware of the anguish his grandparents had endured.
Relieved beyond words, Grandpa rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight embrace.
Grandma didn’t move.
Instead, she looked up at the wall clock.
21:30.
Her heart could bear no more.
She collapsed to the floor.
The waiting had finally ended…
But so had her life.
I especially love the final three lines:
21:30.
Her heart could bear no more.
The waiting had finally ended… But so had her life.
This was written by our contributing writer, Duet Mlotshwa.
Image Source: Unsplash, Anne Nygård
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