The great folks at FunDza has published my short story “Dear Fortune.”
Landisa has been given a diary and has named it Fortune. But Landisa’s ‘fortune’ isn’t great these days. In fact some girls are being mean, and she can’t figure out why, or how to stop it.
That’s what I’ve decided to call you, by the way. “Dear Diary” is so 80s, and while some 80s fashions are in – oooh, I look fiiiiiiiine, in leggings – some things are best left in the past. Besides, I’m an original, and you should be, too.
- destiny, luck, something that happens by chance to a person
- MEGA rich
So now to tell you about me. My name is Landisa and I’m eleven and a half years old. I’m in Grade 5. I have a mama, daddy and one brother. My brother’s name is Mvuyisi and let me tell you, he does NOT bring me joy. He is eight years old, in Grade 2, and everyone thinks he is soooooo cute, yet he lies, lies, lies, getting me in trouble ALL the time. And nobody believes me. They just look at his big brown eyes, and he bats his thick lashes (why do boys get the BEST lashes?) and then they believe everything he says, and not me.
That’s actually why I’m writing to you right now, because I’m in trouble. Mama handed me you, in all your purple-cover glory, and said, “Why don’t you take a time out and think about what you did?”
I did NOTHING. There I was, trying to do my homework, when he kicked me. So I growled at him. GROWLED – which doesn’t hurt. And then he cried and cried and cried, like a baby, and said that I hit him.
Ugh. If I had one wish for today, it would be that I was born an only child. But since that’s not happening, I guess I’d wish for my parents to see how my little brother really is.