The Local Driver

She parked in front of the local Police Station. Jumped out the driver’s seat with a skip in her step, and smiled at the intermittent shine amongst the dented rusted panels that made up most of the farm ute.

Today was the day.

She wiped sweaty palms on her skirt. Her stomach churned as she pulled the heavy glass door open and stepped inside.  Bleach, urine, and stale air bit at her sinuses forced her to wince. She jumped at the thwack from the closing door behind her.

On the other side of the front counter, the Sergeant arched his eyebrow at her, with his glasses balanced on the end of his nose. ‘You’re wearing a dress.’

With wide smile, chin up, she smoothed out the cotton floral. ‘I know. And it’s not even Sunday.’

‘You here to pay for your parking tickets?’

Her mouth twisted the side, screwing up her nose. ‘I’ve got none.’ She hoped.

‘Well, the neighbours have been silent on that front. Your school hasn’t called me, and there’s none of your family asleep in the drunk-tank for you to drive ’em home. So, why are you here annoying me? What did you do?’ He asked, lowering his head as his frown deepened.

She gulped air. ‘Nothing—’

Yet.’

‘I ah, um…’ She frowned, teething on her bottom lip.

‘Young lady, I’m a busy man, spit it out.’

She smiled wide and said, ‘it’s my birthday today, and I’m now of the legal age to apply for my Driver’s license.’

(250 words)

 

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Delineate

‘His nose was regal, no—hornish, no—bugle like. And it had all these blues lines spreading out across the bridge like a city’s streetscape at night.’

‘Ah, huh. Eyes?’

‘Oh, the eyes. Like the cobalt blue of a winter sky in the Outback, cold, empty and big.’

‘Ya could’ve just said blue. Shape?’

‘What do you mean shape?’

‘Almond, tiered, you know.’

‘No. Do you have a brochure of types to choose from?’ Continue reading “Delineate”

Awakening Daymare

The police baton banged along steel bars, stabbing at my slumbering brain.

“She’s awake,” called out the young constable, carrying two coffee mugs.

Heaving upright, the ceiling seemed to drop on my head. “Oww!” Palms cradled my oversized skull. Powder coated eyeballs winced at the grey surroundings. Scents of stale socks combined with urine and soured cheese singed my sinuses, and my tongue was slick with sand. If this was awake, shoot me now! Continue reading “Awakening Daymare”