narratorAUSTRALIA Volume One by narrator AUSTRALIA

  *** Editor’s Pick ***

  Flustered

  Amber Johnson

  Highgate Hill, QLD

  Today, I am going to do it. I am going to claim my prize. The aroma of crusty bread fills the air as I watch him from a picnic table. A green and gold neon banner beckons him closer to the Subway vendor. The hunger in his eyes matches my own. He flicks his sandy hair aside and glides to the end of the line.

  It is his routine to come here at midday. I’ve watched him every day. Sure, there are plenty of other suitable guys around here, but it has to be Jake. Unlike many of his peers, Jake doesn’t suspect ill of my intentions. To him, this is just his lunch ritual, but to me, this outlet is our secret retreat and our emblematic haven.

  I’ve spent a few days doing my research. I had to learn his patterns and pinpoint the moment when he is most vulnerable. He likes to eat lunch alone which makes things easier. I crept around tables and hid behind trees just to be near him. I’m not sure if he has been ignoring me or was just oblivious to my presence. Either way, it has given me plenty of opportunity to analyse the situation. Sometimes I dig through the scraps to see what he has eaten. I try to do it subtly though; I don’t want to look like a stalker. I need to know every intricate detail about this boy.

  Yesterday, I got so close that I could smell the bread in his hands. I just wanted to nip the crumbs off of his lips. I wouldn’t have done it in a creepy way. He might have liked it. Maybe he would have thought that it was cute and fallen for my charms.

  A bell chimes and he glances at his wrist.

  ‘It’s been twenty minutes,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘Why do these lines always take so long?’

  It’s not fair that they make you wait, precious. If things went my way, the sandwich would already be prepared for you when you got there. Just wait a little longer. Please don’t leave.

  Finally, a plump woman looks at him.

  ‘May I help you?’

  ‘Yes, I’d like to order a foot long chicken teriyaki sub on Italian herbs and cheese.’

  ‘Fresh or toasted?’

  ‘Toasted.’

  ‘Please head over to the next counter.’

  I hear the rattling of shrapnel in his pockets as he burrows deep. He slips the vendor a pink note and a fistful of silver. Their mouths exchange pleasantries whilst their hands exchange goods. I can’t stop looking at those fingers of his. I can imagine myself nibbling on them. My thoughts begin to stray.

  I wonder how he would react if I slipped between his legs. It’s a tempting thought, but far too risky. There are too many people around.

  He walks out the door and wanders down a hill to the river. Dragonflies hover over the surface while koi dance below. He sits beside an old willow tree that shrouds him in a curtain of leaves. I watch eagerly as he stretches out his legs and unwraps his meal. I puff up my chest and skulk closer. This time, I’m going to do it. He looks in my direction and gives a smile. It is a trusting smile. Dare I edge closer?

  ‘Hello there,’ he says to me. I cautiously approach. He laughs at my shy advance and offers some of his sandwich. I watch his lips. He is practically inviting me to ravage him. I swoop in for a peck. He withdraws in shock. Before he can respond, I take off as fast as I can.

  ‘Hey!’ he yells. ‘Get back here! Give me back my sandwich, you stupid ibis!’

  Ed: We really enjoyed Amber’s delightfully entertaining story, and the lovely innocent twist at the end. Short and sweet but very effectively written.

   

  Thursday 26 July 2012

  Untouchable Me

  Bridge

  Moonah, TAS

  They say every cloud has a silver lining.

  The one that opened up for me sent an angel shining down upon me, dousing me with love, touching parts of me perceived untouchable, untouchable me.

  Strangle my heart, enrapture my body, flow right through me, your presence ever near.

  Never let me go for I am your tomorrow. Stay forever, entwined in this bliss. For you are my rose without any thorns.

  Compassion in your heart, your key fits my lock.

  Cupid aimed his arrow.

  Immersed in my heart.

  Touching parts once perceived untouchable.

  Untouchable me.

   

  Friday 27 and Saturday 28 July 2012

  Black Socks And Matching Tie

  Hettie Ashwin

  Portsmith, QLD

  Marjorie, my mother used to say, try and be nice. I thought I was. Party manners mother would remind me. Ps and Qs she said. We don’t all have to live like peasants. From what I could see the peasants had much more fun.

  It was a relief when I finally left home. John swept me off my feet and within three months we were engaged and then married. John wanted me to have fun. And we did. He’d drag me along to this dance and that cinema show. Whatever I wanted John was ready to oblige.

  Mother put the dampeners on things pretty quick though. She said he should be more responsible, more level headed, but that wasn’t like John. He’d say, come on Marj, let’s go swimming, or Marj get ready and we can go for a drive, but it was always the wrong moment, the wrong time. I was the level headed one. He was all for the spontaneous in life. One day he came home with a dog. Always doing silly things like that. I said a dog, what will we do with a dog, but he just put it down in the kitchen and said it would be great to have a dog. And who’s going to clean up after it, I said. Me, that’s who.

  We had a row about it. I pointed out that a dog needed a walk, they bark and shed hair. He tries to be quite hurtful when we row. Calls me names. Says I’m controlling. Hard to please. He says things he knows will make me get emotional. A sort of sixth sense. This time he said he wanted unconditional love, something that wasn’t judgemental and ended with, and a dog is man’s best friend. He spat those last words and banged his fist down on the kitchen table. Well, you don’t have to be a genius to read between the lines.