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Surrender.

18 Aug

He looked at her as she had longed to be looked upon.

Take me” her heart sang, “drink me in deep draughts.

No breath, no movement between them, other than a shift somewhere inside her.

“Always.” His ancient fragrance whispered of cloves and dust.

Now tilting his head ever so slightly… first to one side then the other.¬†Warmth suffused her and she closed her eyes.

 


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Push the envelope.

17 Aug

Go to the Espy.

15 Aug

The Espy was here, the music was here, he was here….but SHIT it felt different. Jesus. Where was Ross? Neil? The chick behind the bar he liked? The punter next to him smelled like soap, for fuck’s sake.

The band wasn’t too bad though. Everyone around him was taller…no joke, so he couldn’t see as well as he used to. Christ maybe he was shrinking. Ha ha.

Boom! There was Neil after all. Pissed as a fart as usual.

OY, GAZ mate“, slap hands. Neil smelled like roll-yer-owns, bless him.

“Didn’t know you was out. Wanna go for a smoke?”

“Yeahmate”, Gaz led the way out. The carpet was still sticky under his boots. All good.



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Speak out.

12 Aug

Kill only what you eat.

2 Aug

It was a huge day for everyone. Being the youngest, she had to crawl under scrub to pull out a couple of the dead birds. The the red clay dust clogged her nose and coloured her skin.

The river bed was dry, but Wallace said he could smell the rains coming. They’d have to shift camp to higher ground before dark. This news was received stoically by the men, but not by Violet.

“I badly need a wash and a stiff gin before dinner” she said, “I’m drawing flies”.

One at a time.

19 Jul

She liked to catch leaves before they could reach the ground, and make a wish on each one. When the wind blew stronger from the South, there were more falling leaves than she could save.

She cried, “I wish they would fall more gently and give me a chance to rescue them all!”.

The wind died down, and she was able to reach each leaf until the the branches were bare.


 

Stop the self-talk.

16 Jul

There she was again.

If he pulled up would she freak and run? Maybe she’d smile…even stop and chat for a bit. What does it take before a chick knows you’ve made it big time? The car?…the cashmere?…the Rolex? Maybe never; she was always up herself at school.

“Stuck up bitch”, whispered Amal as the light turned green.

Wear earplugs.

13 Jul

Some time between midnight and dawn, a thousand cicadas settled on her bed. The din was sharp-edged, unharmonious. By mid-morning it had taken on a form…a shape you could almost see. She tried talking to it.

“What are you?”, she asked, “Can we please talk about this?”.

WE ARE TINNITUS AND WE ARE FOREVER”.

She began to dance.


Hug a hippy.

8 Jul

You didn’t mind me tagging along, which was good because I wanted to spend every minute with you. You were tiny, and packed with more wicked fun than good sense. It was summer 1969, I was clueless, and everything…the good and the bad, was ahead of me.

Happy birthday Cuz.


Keep an eye on them.

7 Jul

It was tough turning the snags and keeping an eye out for Sandra. He wasn’t sure what she’d gotten up to but it couldn’t be good. Sandra was always a moll when friends were over…dressed like a moll, acted like a moll, pissed as a moll, the whole bloody caper. In a minute he’d go looking for her. Ethan walked up.

“You need a hand with with those? Sandy’s in the pool starkers”. “Nah” he said, “She’ll keep”.

Now, at least he knew where she was.