My Short Stories
Enjoy my flash stories. Please select by category ...
My Brain, and I
“Some people find this pretty heavy going. I regularly offer a headset, with your choice of music, while we proceed”, Katie said. Her warnings didn’t really do justice to the goings on! “Just move your shoulders up a bit. Yep, ah no, back. That’s good. It’s going to be very loud. So do you have…
“I don’t know him,” I lied
Her eyebrows arched upwards, just below her fringe, momentarily suspended in disbelief. I repeated my protestations. “Nah, I’ve never seen him before.” I sense, maybe feel my palms start to sweat. I keep them firmly in my pockets, but I need a distraction: I fumble and find my tobacco and busy myself rolling a smoke.…
To go, and how to go
My twentieth birthday approaches, and I am reminded, by Personnel staff of my requirement to register before my birthday. Failure would mean immediate dismissal from Federal employment; compliance: a possible overseas engagement! Possibly a quirk of fate, but work colleagues are almost exclusively right-wing idealists, keen supporters of The War, and Santamaria. Elevenses, and lunch…
Yuli gathering
There’s a dozen of us, ankle-deep in the mangrove slop, a low tide about to turn. There are echoey calls between the mob, someone finds a rich haul, and there’s general, light-hearted banter. I hear deep, chesty laughter. It is a torrid time of year: the ‘build-up’, November and each afternoon heavy dark clouds roll…
New horizons
We only have one street. Its long, dusty, and has fences that catch all the bags from our one shop. Alice Springs is the ‘big smoke’, never been there, but Mum says it’s 600 clicks away. There’re other communities like ours, families living on country out from Alice. We got waterholes, gorges and hills made…
John Smith reports
I vaguely remember somebody yelling instructions to ‘secure him with that harness’. That would explain my partly constrained right side. I feel the icy-cold metal buckle and webbing, and a freezing wind whipping across my face. I manage to push myself up, my back against the side of the wildly flying Utility. My head doesn’t…
New neighbours
We do the Open-House inspection. It’s maybe a little nosy, but justified, on the neighbourly need-to-know ratings scale! A few weeks later, we are in the street with the small crowd, watching as the well-dressed Agent whips the bidders into a competitive frenzy. We come away slightly dazzled at the implications for our own property…
Was it the whistling?
I have always enjoyed whistling and while I am aware it can annoy, I try to restrict it to times when I am alone. Musicals were a favourite, the old Broadway extravaganzas – Fiddler on the Roof; South Pacific; A White Christmas and when preoccupied, I sometimes slip into the bigger oratorios – Handel, Bach,…
Rose and Flo
Rose is pushing me out the door. Me one good eye notes the wall clock – ‘5.50’. “Jees woman, unhand me! I’ve still got ten minutes.” I wriggle out of her clutches, but the effort releases a wet warmth. I sink onto the green-tiled floor at me local, the Empress of India’s front bar. Darkness.…
It’s 2084
(with thanks to Disney, Orwell and Huxley) Winston: “Did we humans ever marry, have babies, garden, make decisions about our own lives?” Droid: “That query is acknowledged and has been queued. It will take several moments to consider a possible answer. Be patient, a response will be generated shortly.” “While the Regime considers the query,…
The flat, dirty dinner plate
The large, dirty plate sits there, mirroring my depressed sense of worth, echoing the flat boredom of my day. I notice there’s a slick of something on the edge of the plate and on the cutlery. I continue to sit, anticipating my morning latte! My focus drifts. I’m guessing it’s a residual crème sauce, maybe…
Middle C
The trio continue to giggle, occasionally breaking out into uncontrolled laughter. Musical Director, Richard, bristles. Jessie just can’t seem to hit the opening C, and of course, her B Flat throws Sybil and Lily off, too. “Er, ah … Three little maids from school are we…”, hits the theatre’s far wall and lands somewhere: as…
Eight Mile Creek
As kids, the waterhole on the Eight Mile Creek was the go-to centre of our world. The four of us would ride our bikes down to its deep watery world, then line up to swing off the rope for that first exhilarating ‘bomb’. We had no idea where it was eight miles from, or to.…
The newsletter
It was a risky strategy, but risk often maximised returns. And besides, it was fun ‘gaming’ the system. As an Investment Banker, I read the Morning Brew newsletter religiously. But the routine was starting to bore me. The takeaway latte, sipped as you trudged along cloudy Collins Street. But jees, that newsletter did open up…
Lying doggo
The mind moves towards discernible thought, fog dissolves into a clearer scape. There is still haze, a lamp-lit bridge, stark, silhouetted, but distorted against the softening night, a misty swirl. There is a hooded figure, hunched against the chill, pausing under a lit space to light a cigarette. There is an illuminated clockface atop a…
Summertime, and the livin’…
The concert finished with us all standing to attention and bellowing out “God save the Queen”. I knew all the words, even the second verse, cos I was in the choir, and we led the school at Monday morning’s assembly. But today the Anthem’s conclusion was taken as a ‘starting pistol’. As soon as that…
Changing guard
We’ve sold the house. Four weeks until settlement and finally a new Shangri-La found! The guard is changing and new residents hopefully enjoy our fourteen years of gardening. Regrets, uncertainty, slowly replaced with the knowledge that a new chapter beckons. The soft early breeze gently ruffles the Wisteria canopy, a few weeks ago just a…
Farewell
“I’m feeling very tired. I sense that things are approaching the pointy end,” David whispers, as he lies on the daybed, set out on his shaded Darwin verandah, next to that quite rare, tropically-adapted cherry tree. We talk quietly for about 20 minutes, Uta in the kitchen, sensitively absent as we relive shared adventures, reflections…
An oft-told tale
An oft-told tale Two friends and I journey north to be Visiting that ill-fated, deep-notched tree Writ large and oft in Australia’s psyche To Coopers Creek, that desperate site Where history tells of a nasty plight Just hours betwixt glory and lethal blight. One hundred and sixty years now passed Since King, Burke and…
Busy restaurant needs Barista
Childcare and school drop-offs were both achieved without incident, and I had mostly wiped off the youngest’s dribbled milk from the front of my suit. The slightly dark, damp patch would disappear in half an hour: the interview was an hour away. As a full-time ‘house dad’, I had been out of the workforce now…
A phlebotomy visit
I am 9th in the line snaking along the driveway and the early morning chill means we all hunker into our jackets. I presume most of us ‘early-birders’ are ‘fasters’, coffee is the priority on most of our minds. It certainly is for me! The front door opens, we file in, grab a number from…
Unintelligent Artificial Intelligence
My delightful lunch is ruined. I go to pay, and the cashier asks, “Have you got much on for the rest of the day?” This absolutely gormless enquiry rankles, it continues to swirl as I stride towards the car, preoccupying my thoughts. Should I have been a smarty-pants and shared my plans to mow the…
A sphincter-clenching mishap
“I’m over on the Island. Are you able to get over here and finish our bishness?” The telephone line goes dead: George assumes I will come over to his island shack. His assumption is why I am in this bloody predicament: a rushing, outgoing tide, our boat stuck on an ever-widening sandbar, and a monster,…
Down in the valley
I drag out my reliable old Osprey haversack as I feel the first suggestion of seasonal change. Daytime temperatures start to rise, and occasional cloudless days provide an irresistible urge for outdoor activity, a need to flick winter sluggishness, to stretch glutes, to ‘…breathe the mountain air’, to get out from under! Georgie is on…
Shut the bloody gate
I still can’t decide whether it was the rough tongue on my cheek, the slobber or the halitosis that woke me. Maybe it was some sixth sense, warning me of a ‘presence’. I turned over and cracked an eyelid. I was looking into a huge set of snotty nostrils: I managed a strangled call to…
An unbelievable encounter
“Jees did you see that?” I was staring in disbelief, out in front of the boat. What on earth is it? My brother turns, and looks at me blankly, his fifth beer chugged hurriedly as his line screeches into action, his focus immediately shifts onto the fish launching dramatically into the air fifty metres behind…
A possible quagmire
“Oh you know. The thingy … with the orange and red doodads. The one we both love; don’t you remember, we bought it at that street market!” This is bloody ridiculous. “Jees, we carried it on the plane, as hand luggage, all the way back to Darwin.” I dig deeper, the grey matter swirls; I…
Neighbourhood walking
It was a few Fridays back, and as is my habit, I am up early, a long black quietly taken as I peruse the overnight emails: increasing annoyance as my New York Times subscription delivers acres of coverage about ‘he who shall not be named!’ I really must cancel that subscription. Half an hour reading…
Distant saviours
In the autumn of 1975, I was stationed at the small, isolated community of Docker River. It’s name was later changed back to its traditional name of Kaltukatjara, a settlement scenically nestled against the Petermann Ranges, 200 kilometres due west of Uluru. The community had a largely transient population, about 400 people: Pitjantjatjara, Ngaanyatjarra, Yankunytjatjara…
A Mimih moment
There were impassioned, heated discussions when we learnt that our invite to this English music festival had a dark back story. Had we known that the festival was intertwined with the 200th anniversary of the First Fleet’s departure for Botany Bay, it was agreed Aboriginal Australians had nothing to celebrate and would have unequivocally declined…
Dad?
Quod erat demonstrandum, ‘that which is to be demonstrated’ had been drummed into me in Year One science. The facts must be accepted as irrefutable evidence. But these results – 99.9% likely paternity – utterly unbelievable – I always wore protection! I reread both the DNA pathology report, and the attached letter. A small photo…
Movement
Joyce and I arranged an inspection as soon as the house came onto the market – a wonderfully elegant, 1920s triple-fronted Art Deco brick number. The Agent guided us around the property knowledgeably, and as we wandered around, we realised we were both humming. We were falling under its spell. The attention to detail: built-in…
An exotic wallpaper
We are all keyed up, flying from Alice, stopping in Adelaide before the haul across to Perth. There are six of us, two taxis depositing us at our rented premises, our home, five bedrooms and a couch for the next four days. The National Folk Festival starts tomorrow, and despite the long flights, nobody wants…
It was preordained
Quod erat demonstrandum, ‘that which is to be demonstrated’ had been drummed into me in Year One science. The facts must be accepted as irrefutable evidence. But these results – 99.9% likely paternity – utterly unbelievable – I always wore protection! I reread both the pathology report, and her letter. If Mum were still here,…
Meredith’s cat
The girl was adopted by a wandering puss And that meant quite flatly nought left to discuss After snacking and play throughout that first day The moggie said “Yes, I think I will stay.” Tinned chicken, warmed milk and other soft treats It was obvious there would be plenty of eats A comfy soft…
Hairy Henry
I left school after Intermediate and started working at Myer(s). It felt so grown up to be wearing that black uniform: the ladies in their finery, coming and going. My girlfriends used to call me a flirt. They had it wrong; I just liked being around moustached men. It was probably my brother’s Air Force…
Ageing indiscretions
Miffy, our adorable little fluffball, rules our later lives. We had been determined to have a dog-free retirement, but you know how these things can change; we dropped our guard, just the once, and she moved in! That was nine years ago and our Shih Tzu lives ‘…the life of Riley.’ It is Tuesday, an…
Christmas Lasagna
My expletive follows the paring knife’s momentary slip, it’s a small nick across both my pinky and index fingers. I suck the fingers as I go to the bathroom cupboard and apply a couple of band aids. I briefly reflect on my four-year-old grandson’s probable jealousy of my colourful strips! I go back into the…
Drained anxiety
I check the gate monitor and confirm it is the usual Coles delivery guy: Joe, I think his name is. I hit the remote and watch as the gate slid smoothly aside. The truck parks in the driveway and I watch the gate close. Four boxes of groceries, two chiller bags of perishables and a…
Towards closure
Is it Tuesday, Thursday, or Friday? I know it’s not Wednesday – we didn’t have porridge today. I heard an ambulance yesterday. I nurse my strong black tea and shortbread biscuit, ruminating, hunkered down on the verandah at the Old Folk’s home. A privacy screen separates me from his now empty room. It also protects…
Gas-induced mayhem
He wanted his photo taken standing in front of the old Burrumbeet pub! He explained that it was sentimental, his great-grandfather had been the first publican and hence he dragged me out of the car beside the highway for this snap. The pub sits alongside a bald, oddly shaped hill named Mount Callender. Many similarly-shaped…
Rigoletto
This was my swansong, my finale, a farewell from thirteen wonderful years with the Ukrainian National Opera. Rehearsals had been perfunctory; necessarily short with Kyiv’s ongoing power disruptions, security alerts and the overarching tensions across the country as the Russian invasion ground on. But theatre-goers are resilient, balancing inconveniences and uncertainties, sometimes, particularly in the…
Circles of life
As we sit down for dinner there are introductions. I miss her surname, but get Rhonda, with some fleeting, residual name tickling my memory . But as often happens at first meetings, surnames evaporate. She is a delightfully engaging individual, sitting across the table: laughter, and a little historical banter establishes that we have both…
The Bridge at Langlois, Arles
I can see the laser cameras, four of them, each overlapping to provide impenetrable beams around the Van Gogh painting – the Bridge at Langlois, Arles, hanging on the wall in front of me. We have just flown in from Amsterdam, having spent the previous two days at the Van Gogh Museum, studying the security…
Memories
Those tiny, impossibly beautiful ‘Peacock’ spiders. I lie here, still, and they dance on the inside of my eyelids, opal-coloured backs held aloft, displayed for my enjoyment. I recall finding a whole family nestled amongst the potted succulents on the verandah. They love to dance in the early morning, backlit as those first rays reach…
Marj’s grit
“I’m a pensioner. How much to mow the grass?” I suggested I come around; a time was set for the following Tuesday. The place was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. There was no front gate, but a high, locked metal barrier divided off the front and back yards. I rang the bell and a…
Is this madness?
I think things can be traced back to my early childhood; Mum’s penchant for Christopher Robin: the need to avoid the cracks in the pavement. Don’t worry, I have already alerted the grandchildren on the necessity to jump right over the lines! At 75, I still do. Take a close look when I am walking…
Anna’s way
Her death has necessarily rescheduled the family meeting, September in lieu of November. Dad’s solicitor is politely moving around the room, a cold fish dispensing insincerity, whispered condolences! Sadness, some tension and a distinct chill best describes the lounge atmosphere! Elizabeth, the youngest sibling, is acting as ‘mother’, liaising with the housekeeper on the refreshments…
And here I come
Life is just wonderful. I have been snuggling in here for months, room service providing regular inputs of snips, snails, sugar and spice, my every need on hand in this all-encompassing, secure capsule, even taking the garbage out, as necessary. Really, what more could I ask? But I know things need to change. I’ve been…
Commuting
I shuffle agedly along the platform; the guard sees my efforts and delays the departure for 30 seconds. My grateful smile is reciprocated as I climb aboard the Quiet Carriage and settle into one of the few remaining, forward-facing seats. I have often considered the pros and cons of a train’s forward or backward-facing seating.…
The sun and I
Why on earth do they schedule tennis during the summer months? I understand it is a traditional summer sport, but the infrastructure going into things these days; the huge, indoor centres with their capacity to close the roofs, the air conditioning: I mean, why is it still necessary to follow the sun? I have been…
Toil and trouble
Was it a buttercup, or a dandelion? I remember childhood explanations about the import of holding a blossom under your chin – it meant that ‘love was close at hand’, but which bloody flower was it? I could use a bit of loving right now, but another bit of residual memory dictated that disaster would…
I love ‘em, but …
I’ve just about had enough of their self-serving, belittling attitudes. Things just don’t change. I remember the cute, beret-wearing, goateed guitarist at the festival. His guitar work was spellbinding and I intentionally positioned myself to loiter within his orbit. A couple of my friends knew him from elsewhere and raised eyebrows when I whispered my…
The Beachside line
The distant, mournful hoot announces the approach of the old train. It will wheeze into view shortly, predictably, just another journey along this beachside railway line, first taken one hundred and sixty years earlier! The railway was originally built to move the wheat and wool coming from inland Australia, down the Murray River, finally connecting…
A phlebotomy visit
I am 9th in the line snaking along the driveway and the early morning chill means we all hunker into our jackets. I presume most of us ‘early birds’ are ‘fasters’, coffee is the priority on most of our minds. It certainly is for me! The front door opens, we file in, grab a number…
Contingency planning
Date: 22rd November 2023 Venue: Phoenix, a gated mansion owned by General Sebastian Makepeace Agenda: Contingency planning for the US, post-November 2024 Presidential elections Participants: General Guy Warren, Chairman, Joint Chief of Staff General Sebastion Tippett, Commander, National Guard Mr David Rubicon, Director Federal Bureau of Investigations Ms Lucy Oswald, National Reconnaissance…
The deadly Dragon
I am two-thirds through my degree, but the course is starting to do my head in. I sit in the Union bar, the fire provides warmth, its flickering light illuminating the gloom of my thoughts. Do I really want to be a Social Worker? There are two empty schooner glasses on the table beside me,…
Beating the Dragon
I have one semester left for my doctorate, and then the hard slog of the Internship starts. Both Mum and Dad were here before me, it’s a natural fit. They anticipate me joining their practice. To be honest I have never considered any other career options. Uni hasn’t been too taxing; a lot of friends…
Not a life-changing event.
Our youngest grandson started school yesterday. He was as excited as a coiled spring; keyed up for weeks, egged on by his much older six-and-a-half-year-old brother. I spoke to the debutante on the phone last night and he was tumbling over himself, telling me about drawing a huge lion, and the teacher telling the class…
That’s not a fish
We are sitting in the boat for maybe 15 minutes, the sandflies are making life miserable, my brother fiddles with the bloody outboard. Why on earth have I agreed to this fishing expedition? I have lots of gardening I could be doing. It is late October, the ‘Build-Up’, that notorious local, pre-Monsoon weather phenomena is…
The Canton Lead
Two men and a woman had me pinned to the ground. The woman had a pair of shears. She roughly turned my head and cut off my queue, holding it aloft, a growl of triumph as she brandished my hair for the mob. I struggled, a leg free, finding a groin, hearing a grunt, and…
Balang’s instruction
This is Dungbon country, about 80 kilometres south of Maningrida, Central Arnhem land. I am sitting with my ngadjadj. You call him my mother’s brother, my uncle. We are on a ledge; high and shaded, a commanding position with the soft early morning light casting deep shadows across the valley below. Over the past few…
Skinning the cat
I’m not going to let this develop into a row, but … I mean, we’ve taken the long drive down to her place every year since the kids were little. I know Margaret’s getting on, but she talks incessantly and blathers about the doings of her neighbours and distant relatives: I’ve never met most of…
A contracted trip
It’s six in the evening and a westward sky has that slightly indefinable band of Paines Grey washing up against the burnished, retreating sun. At thirty-eight thousand feet, I stare out at the nothingness, the steady, low-pitched hum of engines felt, maybe just imagined, comfortably reassuring, somewhere behind. The flight is interminable, a generous scotch,…
A policy wonk’s morning
You sense that today will be the start of something different. The signs look good – no burnt toast, your new coffee beans deliver a delicious complexity, and your decision to iron your underpants and shirt last night means arrival at the bus station just as your bus arrives. Your favourite upstairs seat is vacant!…
Screentime
Why do I venture out on such a miserable, Melbourne winter’s day? The simple truth is that I miss the smells, the hubbub and the clamour of the South Melbourne market. It’s been three years since I moved away, but I still journey to Coventry Street when possible. My tram interchange means a brief exposure…
An old letter resurfaces
Old books are as good as old friends, and second-hand bookshops are my go-to when the weather is lousy. I am meeting friends in Castlemaine; I’m very early. Yet again I pass that bookshop in Campbell’s Creek, the one I have been passing for years, always promising to pop in, one day. Today’s the day.…
The north wind
Summer heat, the bedroom air conditioning system is going flat out against the Bureau’s advice that it is unlikely to drop below 25 degrees overnight. At 8 pm it’s still 35. The north wind is bringing Central Australia to town. Even the vegetable patch is withdrawn, wilting to preserve some hydration. Our breeding program is…
Claude and I
It’s strange how quickly some relationships develop. Claude and I had only met about three weeks ago. He was scurrying across the workshop, carrying some edible titbits: he later explained – the ‘elevenses’ for the crew. And me? Well I was a recent transferee from another part of the factory, an involuntary refugee, moved as…
A gardening soliloquy
John corners me as I come into the kitchen this morning. “Here’s your long black. Are you OK if we revisit the garden redevelopment ideas?” This was the third time he raised it this week, and to be honest, his OCD was starting to wear thin! We were planning a vegetable patch, but his military…
Svelte Claude flies
How often do you see a sign advertising Cockroach racing? I reread the aging, fly-spotted notice. Half of it is missing but still advises ‘Thoroughbred Cockroach racing … BYO ‘roaches. $1,000 prize pool. If interested, call this numb…’ It is dark, late Autumn and I’m being kicked out of the Empress of India for pissing…
A mining tale.
Can you imagine a house simply disappearing? One moment it’s there, the next it folds in on itself, like closing one of those kid’s 3D panorama storybooks, concertina-like, and just disappears into a hitherto unknown abyss. Our house slides into an old gold mine! Thank God we’re all at the supermarket. We turn into our…
Tracy and I
I’d just about had enough. We were both working on a remote island north of Darwin, but Tracey had taken a few weeks’ leave; “to get her head straight!” She was now home, things were tense, but there were moments of rekindled joy, intimacies, hopeful signs that we could get on top of ‘things’. Then…
Magpies and fairies
Morning sunshine is sneaking onto the front verandah, erasing memories of recent cold, gloomy days. As is my want at such a time, I’m outside, wrapped warmly and seated, expectant, waiting for the daily Magpie Chorus to start. On queue, they arrive. There’s a bit of jostling; four, five, now six members executing some preliminary…
Fantasy’s freedom
“Next!” That was my dismissal. He’d asked me if I’d ever sung in a choir. I hadn’t and I told him so. “Here endeth the lesson” a phrase that comes to mind in an unguarded moment, when I wander back to that audition, sixty-five years ago. Week three, the school chaplain had one hundred new,…
My dad, and me
Can ya be in love with ya memories? That’s the question swirling around me head, ever since last June’s bust-up with Bruce. He reckons we have ta move closer to town! Can you imagine? Three bedrooms on a quarter acre, lawn mowing, neighbours, traffic and kids hooning around. I betcha the Holden will be stolen…
A cloudy, cold day in July
So who suggests this bloody walk, anyway? The brochure and the hotel concierge both say the trek between Lake Louise across to Lake Agnes is clearly marked, spectacular and takes 5 to 6 hours return. We’ll be at the point where, before global warming, six individual glaciers converge. Late summer, a cloudy, cold day but…
The eyes have it
It’s the yellow eyes my mind returns to. Nightmares feature those unblinking orbs, set high on its head, half a metre back from a snout, above a row of pearly whites. Even after all these years, a shiver works its way up my spine. The family holiday, in Darwin. Someone suggests the visit to Crocodile…
Grandpa’s treasure
He remembers seeing a Thylacine, in the glade, staring. For maybe a minute it lingers before it quietly moves off into the bush. There are other stories. Bullocks crushed when the jinker’s brakes fail; several near misses, as behemoths fall the wrong way, mateship and his lifelong love of the bush. But now, the sandwiches…
Friday’s focus
I had half an eye on the catastrophe unfolding in the Grampians, terrifying images flash across the screen. Rampant flames swallow grasslands, trees and houses, insistent red and blue emergency lights wink furiously. Yellow Hi-Viz bedecked men and women hold hoses, hopeful, but powerless against this de-bottled genie. The Bureau predict the maelstrom; dry summer…
An aged chick, checking out
Things were looking grim. My part-pension and small nest-egg just weren’t covering the ever-increasing cost of the overheads for myself and the five cats. Tears and sleepless nights didn’t help. I needed a job. I had retired from a Nursing Home carer’s role a few years ago. I felt totally lost! Pension Day and I…
A master painter
My mind was buzzing, memories swirling and ideas flying towards a central concept in these few moments after reading the fly leaf of the paperback sent via a friend’s ‘declutter’! Stephen Scheding’s “A small unsigned painting” brought my brother’s email about six months ago rushing, faster than the proverbial ‘cheetah’ back into my consciousness. He…
The three musketeers
It has been a couple of decades, and I was pleasantly surprised at my reaction to the email. He was going to be in Melbourne for a conference. “What about a catch-up?” I am waiting at the terminal. We were the ultimate Three Musketeers, Stephen, Becky and I. We were in Bubs together, throughout Primary…
Tis the season for netting …
“Those bloody rosellas!” The trees are awash with splashes of red, blue and yellow feathers, each gobbling greedily, screeching loudly, confirming to the multitude that the fruit is ripe. I have the broom, waving it manically as I run into the orchard. Frustrated tears fall as I race around, ineffectually shoo-shooing, flapping the broom, yelling…
Gazan intercept
1. Deep dark deeds The dark, uneven floor is littered with what my ears tell me are probably pottery shards. I stub my toe on something and am loathe to move the torch beam far from the floor. There are larger bits of pottery, that for the moment remain unidentifiable. An hour earlier I tied…
That music box
She twirled, her blue tutu flounced, as she pirouetted around her glass floor, the mirror capturing and reflecting the performance to ‘London Bridge is falling down’. It was always a ‘must have’ highlight of our visits to Gran. “She’s an enchantress” Gran used to say, but that was as much information as we ever got.…
Lowness
There is nothing unusual about shadows. They are synonymous with sunlight; dark, two-dimensional splotches duplicating the world about. What’s unusual about the present circumstance is that there is no sunshine. It’s midnight, moonless and I am stumbling along the laneway, making my way homeward after a boozy session at the local. I sense, rather than…
Grandpa’s got fairies
I have my old red and green shirt on and I walk over to Grandpa. “Is it time to do it?” He doesn’t hear me, he’s kneeling down fiddling, using a feather to tickle the flower’s inside. He has told me that it is his secret for growing huge, prize-winning veggies. I try again “Hey,…
We’ve got fairies
“Grandpa, is it time to do it?” I am concentrating on tickling the aubergine’s stigmata and the tiny voice just wasn’t computing! I heard the voice, I momentarily looked up, but, ah, who was this small person in my hothouse? I heard the voice again; I heard and identified an impatient whine. “Grandpa!” “Oh, hello…
Sebastian and I
I can stop over before or after Marseilles. I will miss the funeral regardless of my decision, so I go to Rome first, planning Madrid, with free time, afterwards. Our loving is erotic, comfortable; mostly uninhibited, albeit always within the constraints imposed by an affair. We have been lovers for fifteen years, intermittent, opportunistic, international…
Attention, counters
I do like the roominess of that seat immediately behind the driver, but their head spoils my view. I need to get an uninterrupted vista to ensure I count the mileage posts accurately. Some councils put the distance markers on the left. This means I need a left-hand seat, towards the very front of the…
Pardon?
I was up early, wanting to maximise time in the promised warm, dry weather; to catch up on the weeding around the aubergine, bok choy and kale: she had always loved her Kale! I had been paying the blackbirds with bread, to scrape the weeds, but they were on a ‘go-slow’. I alerted them to…
A voice ne’er forgotten
The portable Olivetti case is battered and scratched. Despite a few decades of dust and grime, I recognise it instantly. I see Mum sitting uncomfortably on an ancient, low stone wall, the typewriter on her knees as she pounds the keys. There are pictures in the family albums of that Olivetti, well-travelled, always in the…
Heads, you lose
Losing my head was an unfortunate mistake. An invitation to attend the Tribunal Revolutionaire, an all-expenses-paid holiday at la Bastille and then away it went – the ‘national razor’ dropped, and that was that! Silly, careless when I stopped to think about it. I know I was outspoken, loud sometimes, just a drunken, forlorn bore,…
The uninvited resident
It took her several weeks to tell me. I think if she had confided her ‘vision’ earlier, maybe at the moment when we were first inspecting the property, I would have resisted purchasing that beautiful old house. Its’ acre sat fronting the little river that wended its way through the village; the water easement…
Three notes – Johanna
Men! Two husbands and a brother-in-law, dead or as good as! And now I am forced, by circumstance, into an industry dominated by self-important misogynists who dismiss me out of hand. It is time for women to stand up, to unite. I have joined the Social Democratic Labour Party, and steer the Women’s sub-committee. It’s…
Three notes – Theo
My earliest memories are of the six of us ice skating on the frozen canals running through the centre of Zundert, close to Father’s church. Vincent is a tentative skater, never keen to race with us, preferring the long straights where he would skate at his own pace. As the light closed in, we knew…
Three notes – Vincent
The sunflowers are intoxicating, growing from here to forever, as far as my eye can see, as I pack my easel, paints and brushes onto the trusty bike, and head back. The evening chill is a reminder that summer is faltering, the laneway leaves will be starting to fall, offering a new palette to consider,…
Protection
A kitchen knife claimed my attention, protruding from below her right breast, its dark handle bloodied but I noticed, curiously, little else on the front of her pyjamas was sullied. I remember the music machine was repetitively playing ‘Hotel California’. I dialled 000 and retreated, dazed, and confused to her front verandah and waited. Sirens…