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It is Saturday and the guests at the braai are sunburned and windblown. A little girl, dressed all too pretty early that morning, is now screaming in frustration and very angry. The salad is already wilted in the serving bowl, the sauce has also gone bad already, thick and sticky.

No one wants to go swimming in the sea anymore. So another braai is now completely over. The rooster starts crowing three times among friends. So the day turns grey and dark and waves break thunderously over coral. With no one now wanting any more entertainment. They start gossiping and scoffing among themselves.

It is now Sunday and everyone is rushing to church and cathedral. So generous, everyone is suddenly sanctimonious and social again. The congregation buys face and the minister is paid well. But for the poor the return is minimal and very meagre. The church fathers stand completely ignorant and neutral about this.

It is Monday and children are being loaded up and down for school. For an abomination world education, pages are being turned from one page to another. With parents who will do homework and tasks after school hours. So that their children can crow as winners again. But again it is only the rooster crowing three times. Yes, for a hell, with souls widely scattered.

So the week goes by and dad has to show up and deliver. There are a lot of bills to pay for material things. Mom is fighting with a big commotion; she wants to entertain again this weekend. But no one hears the silence that descends before the storm. No one sees the harvest becoming extremely thin. But the farmer sees his cattle standing skinny in the pen.

With famine and plague coming to claim multitudes. So it is Saturday again and there is no meat for a braai. There is no porridge or sauce or just a little salad. Due to famine, everything is now gone. Arid and dry, everything lies strewn with dust.

Under exhausting heat waves, everyone is eager to bathe in the sea now. But with fuel restrictions and prices, this thought also comes to nothing. Therefore, listen to the rooster crowing for the last time. And see how the Grey Horse comes in a hurry around the last bend. And know, unsuspecting today’s worldly man has turned to the very last page.