Keith turned his gas bottle on, lit the flame on his camp stove, poured a slurp of peanut oil into his wok and, after feeding a couple of pieces to Arfer his German Shepherd, added the diced meat he’d had marinating overnight. When it had browned, he added the sliced vegetables and gave the wok … Continue reading Solitude has it’s own rewards
Stories
Lost Childhood and Journey To The Top
These pieces were written for the Six Story Challenge, with the prompt word of 'lost'. Two pieces this week, one serious, one-light-hearted. Lost childhood The family had stopped by the side of the road to have a picnic and pick wild blackberries that would fill pies and jam jars. The father could reach the highest … Continue reading Lost Childhood and Journey To The Top
Tales from the roadie – You learn to smell it
In my late teens and early twenties I was a roadie for several largely forgettable rock bands and, along the way, I had experiences that varied from the joyous to the pits but largely mundane, as with most jobs. This is one of the tales of that time. This was a new band I was … Continue reading Tales from the roadie – You learn to smell it
Evil is as Evil does
Keith Neville derived his nickname of Evil from Evil Knievel, being a play on ‘Evil’ K. Neville. He was a long-haul truck driver whose invariable appearance consisted of baggy khaki shorts, sleeveless shirt exposing a myriad of tattoos on his arms, and once-white socks arising from Blundstone workers boots. One day he arrived home to … Continue reading Evil is as Evil does
Esau was an hairy man
This piece was written for the Six Sentence Challenge, with the prompt word of 'blanket'. ‘Esau, why are you wearing that hair shirt?’ ‘Because, Jacob, I must make penitence for saying some hairy things that entered the ears of my enemies and then got up their nose.’ ‘But Esau, with you already being an hairy … Continue reading Esau was an hairy man
Milan – The ego hit and other memories
Note: Milan was a real person I knew in my twenties but I have changed his name and some other details out of respect for his memory and out of fear of being sued by any living relatives unbeknown to me. 😉 Milan was a painter. His parents were Slovakian, immigrants to Australia after WWII. … Continue reading Milan – The ego hit and other memories
She said, he said
Blake had been directed to meet with the CEO of the Department of Community Services at 9 a.m. sharp. He arrived early and saw Tarnie, her PA, clearing away the detritus of the previous afternoon’s after-work-drinks session. These sessions were notoriously attended by those still ambitious or naïve enough to not realise that every word … Continue reading She said, he said
Grumps and India
As the rain bucketed down on the tin roof, Arfer, the German Shepherd, let out a slight woof and headed for the front door. Nicholas launched himself slowly from his armchair and responded to the insistent banging. As he opened it, his grand-daughter, India, barged through, almost knocking him over with the backpack on her … Continue reading Grumps and India
Vivid memories
This is a revised version of a story I originally posted almost a year ago. ‘If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is: Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.’ From William Blake’s poem, ‘The Marriage … Continue reading Vivid memories
Sister doing it for herself
Anna had made several calls to her sister and left messages, without success. Finally Gemma answered. ‘Hi, sis. What’s happening?’ Anna paused and took a deep breath before saying ‘Mum’s gone.’ Gemma’s vocal fry voice responded ‘Oh my God, when?’ ‘Not that it matters but a couple of hours ago.’ Gemma, seemingly shocked, said ‘What … Continue reading Sister doing it for herself
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