Posted in what pegman saw

Backpacking Blues

This week, Pegman takes us to Cape Town, South Africa.

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.



Kelvin M. Knight

The balcony vibrated under her wrists as he slammed their apartment door. He didn’t tell her where he was going and she didn’t care; this backpacking holiday had turned into a nightmare.

It was meant to be their getaway from the pressures of work. Work that was devouring his mind, body and soul. She should laugh at the irony. She slapped the iron balcony instead. Listening to it ringing made her gnash her teeth.

Now she was at it!

Deep breaths, the deepest of breaths. This city was magical. This rainbow nation. Pots of gold everywhere. She snorted. Petrol fumes from the revving motorcycles below slapped her nostrils. Music blared. The singsong screams of the homeless bit her ears. And that sweet yet sour taste of the seaside.

‘Why? Why!’


He stood behind her, head bowed, his top button undone, his dog collar limp in his fingers.

‘I’m sorry.’

(150 words)

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own one hundred and fifty word story, visit the inLinkz button:

Many thanks to K Rawson and J Hardy Carroll for hosting this challenge every week.


First and foremost I am a reader, then a storyteller. My reading tastes are eclectic. My writing can focus around the intimacy of closed settings and may tend towards characters who might be hiding something from themselves.

10 thoughts on “Backpacking Blues

  1. Dear Kelvin,

    O Prolific One. I could feel the balcony vibrate with her. .So much emotion, the strongest being anger and disillusionment. You captured the contrast between what they expected and what they found. Well done…again.



    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear Rochelle

      My prolificacy is but tied to the picture. There was another person in the picture, that lady on the balcony, whose story was waiting to be told. And the name of the building, the Bluepackers Hostel would not leave me alone until it found its way into the story. Centre stage. Now I must exit stage right. Goodnight. Thank you for all your comments. I look forward to them and treat them with the utmost respect.




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