The truth in lies break the ties of time
to travel to the first mistake
remembering the last & what’s at stake.
To go to the edge of nothing, and to the edge everything of something, Continue reading “Dream Protector”
“So, Ol’ mate fetches a round from the beer-fridge and a stubby rolls out and smashes.”
“Where were you?” His pen clicked, poised above the clipboard
“With the rest of the blokes standin’ round the barbie, just shattered watchin’ that wasted beer spread across the cracked concrete.”
“Over a spilt beer?”
“It was tragic.”
“I see,” he replied, loosening his necktie. “Go on, please.”
“So, he’s cleaning it up. When a piece of glass stabbed straight through his rubber thong, makin’ him flap like an unsynchronised swimmer trying to get it out. That caused the caged lorikeet to squawk like an uncivilised-spectator in the final seconds of the rowing race. Which scared the chooks off the veranda and into the gum tree. That woke the possum up, causin’ him to fall from his perch and land on the satellite dish, clinging to the TV antenna like a banned Russian gymnast moonlighting as a pole dancer. But the pole broke, sendin’ the possum into the next tree. So then the antenna rolls off the roof, ripping out the power cables, where it all lands like a mislaid Rugby-scrum in front of this cheeky wallaby eatin’ the missus flowers. He made a mess of her flowers.”
“What did, the wallaby or the dish?”
“Um…” Thumbing up his Akubra’s rim.
“Where’s the satellite dish?”
“Well, somehow those cables hitched onto the wallaby. Should’ve seen it! Swear it broke the world record sprinting across the paddock and hurdled that barbed wire fence higher than any pole-vaulter. Where the cables got caught, launching that antenna like a javelin for its final swan dive into the dam as green as the divin’ pool in Rio. And that’s where the satellite dish is now.”
The insurance assessor shook his head as he mumbled, “a possum caused all this damage?”
“Technically, it started from a wasted beer. Tragic it was. So, my insurance gonna cover that too?”
For my overseas readers who may not understand some of the Aussie lingo used in the above:
Wallaby: is a smaller cousin to the Kangaroo
Akubra: a wide-brimmed hat and an Australian icon.
Thongs: rubber-soled footwear that’s not to be confused with the underwear.
Stubby: a beer bottle containing the same liquid volume as a beer can.
Blokes: a gathering of the male species that is known to cry over spilt beer.
Barbie: Is not a doll, but a barbecue, that usually involves one bloke burning food while supervised by all other blokes in the area.
A Round: known as a shout. It’s when one bloke fetches a beer and automatically supplies a fresh cold beer for all the other blokes that are busy supervising the barbie. This is a must-do and part of the unspoken Blokes’ rules.
Possums: do sleep in trees, are nocturnal, and have a habit of falling out of trees in their sleep. They are not to be confused with the Drop-bears. (*giggles)
No animals were harmed during this episode. But, as for the beer, blokes, and the barbie…
“…But as the sun simmers its summer spin…”
An excerpt from “Summer’s Unshackled Sands” I wrote for Silver Birch Press found here:
Hope you’ll enjoy it.