Jim – Part 1

The tears won’t come.  My eyes’ drought is paradoxically the result of life’s storm clouds sucked dry poured over my heart leaving me wondering just where the moisture has gone as if it packed its bags and departed with the setting sun.  So I start cutting myself.  The blade bites for blood and gets just …

Overdue Encounter – Part 2

‘Cheers!’ Jack charges his glass into the air enthusiastically, spilling more than a little head over the side.  ‘To old friends.’ ‘To brothers,’ Paul retorts, with less enthusiasm, equal sincerity and a commanding gaze across the table. ‘Brothers,’ Jack agrees and clinks his glass gently against Paul’s, a wave of solemnity passing through their moods …

Overdue Encounter – Part 1

At a summer market, after rain, conversation is dominated by complaints about the oppressive humidity as the casual crowd avoids gloomy puddles.  Jack ambles more casually than most, navigating the throng, glancing left and right at the various crafts and cookeries of bored, but relaxed-looking vendors.  Not really interested in purchasing anything in particular, he’s …

Left – Part 2

I wake about 10am.  Jess has already left, in keeping with the normal routine of her lifestyle of which I’m aware our family depends.  The flow of my day consists of the usual splattering of paint, interspersed with scrubbing and bleaching.  I hope with each whiff of cleaning product and acrylic paint our problems can …

Left – Part 1

'When are you coming back?' the anxious voice reverberates from the door-way. 'Never,' I mutter under my breath, as the door slams and I skip down the stairs with a scowl on my face.  Stopping upon reaching the footpath, I look around the quiet street and ponder my next move.  I turn around and see …

Feel It All – Part 6

‘Jim!  Calm down!’  I was thrashing wildly and strong yet gentle hands were holding me down. ‘Dad!  I can’t stay here!  I have to get back!  I’m sorry. . . .’ ‘Jim, I’m not your dad, I’m a paramedic.  My name’s Rob.  You’re in the back of an ambulance.’ I opened my eyes, then ceased …

Feel It All – Part 5

My buck’s party was awesome. . . .  Did I say awesome?  I meant tragic.  Well, it was both.  It was the standard fare: a night-out in Surfers Paradise, lots of skolling and shots and cheering; no strippers, as I really couldn’t see the point of having a beautiful, naked woman gyrating in front of …

Feel It All – Part 4

I was at university back then.  In my third-year at the Queensland University of Technology: a glass ‘n’ concrete structure overlooking the Brisbane river, on the outskirts of the central business district.  I’d just finished my final tutorial for the day and was dawdling outside campus, waiting for a bus, and was pretending not to …

Feel It All – Part 3

Every single fucking thing just seemed so beautiful.  I was 12 years old, appropriately naive and certainly not supposed to utter such words as ‘fucking’ at my age, and hopefully didn’t.  I remember, around that time, my brother and I discovered the ‘C’ word—public schooling—so mum sat us down, told us what the word meant …

Feel It All – Part 2

My dad had cancer. Lung cancer. He was a pack-a-day, Winfield Red sort of man, with the odd self-rolled durry—minus filters—so no-one was terribly surprised, though this didn’t temper the devastation. Mum assumed battle-stations after the diagnosis. She was a strong woman. He was a strong man too, but he could fight his own illness …