The atmosphere resembled the smell of week-old leftovers coming from the kitchen. But Sophie’s Cafe sat right next to the Northern Tennis Centre. Every afternoon, men of all ages relaxed and socialised after a game of tennis. Jenny Styles considered it the ideal place to find love, or at least a man interested in an average-looking thirty-year-old like her. She sipped on her second soy latte, scanning the room for potential targets, hoping today would be the day. Across the room, a man in his early forties, standing a little over six foot with sun-bleached hair and a perfectly manicured three-day growth rose to his feet. Several tennis rackets protruded from his bag. The back of his shirt had the word “coach” stamped upon it. The men at his table stood and shook his hand firmly, and the women kissed his cheek with adoring smiles. Jenny’s eyes met with his as he turned to face the exit. He smiled at her […]
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In Better Hands
Ryan sat quietly in the rain, clenching his hands tightly in his lap, listening but not really paying attention to the spoken words. Could there be a more sombre occasion? Many would say yes. Only a few would remember the funeral of Fran Wilcox. A total of four enhanced the occasion with their presence. Two aging, scruffy looking women stood back under the shelter of a weeping willow, gently sobbing. They played bingo with Fran on a Thursday night and were the sum of her recent social partnerships. Their tears were genuinely sympathetic to her passing, but they were unaware of the real hardships and sorrow Fran endured during her troubled life. One of the other two attending was Fran’s only son, Ryan. He sat politely listening to the two-dollar priest give his two-dollar service. With a glaze over his eyes, he stared deeply into the final resting place of his dearly beloved mother. His mind sifted through the bad memories, […]
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As The Crows Fly
Alice stared through the rear window, frightened out of her wits. What she desperately needed sat in the shed, fifteen perilous metres from the safety of the house. Her husband’s words echoed repeatedly through her mind. “He started all the killin’. He started all the killin’.” There was truth in what he said. If she had wings she could simply fly away. Then again, if Alice were a bird, who knows how she would have reacted? Three months earlier, Alice and Jeff retired. They bought a quaint old wooden house in Kangaroo Valley, south of Sydney. The five acre country property backed onto the river, about two kilometres from town as the crow flies. Most of their land was cleared, except for a group of mature gums circling the house. Alice used to camp in the valley as a much younger woman, always dreaming of someday living there. Alice also dreamed of making friends with the local birds. She made Jeff […]
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Tears From The Sky
An eerie red tinge washed over the cloudy sky. It was unusually red for that late in the morning. A shepherds warning, thought Sarah. But not all warnings are well grounded. There’s still hope, she thought. I may still get blue skies and sunshine, she tried to tell herself. Her special day was upon her. It wasn’t a day she’d looked forward to, but it was something she had to deal with. Something she couldn’t avoid. The long drive gave her far too much time to think. She desperately hoped someday she could look back on the occasion with some kind of happiness. Dreaming of blue skies and forgiving hearts soothed her nerves, but Sarah feared the outcome of the day would be far less desirable. She felt uneasy in a long black dress and high heels. Not her usual style, but under the circumstances, she considered it appropriate. She certainly wouldn’t look out of place. Her feelings would not be […]
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Johnny Sweet
A man with so much to offer but so little to show for it is a man who casts a small shadow. Johnny Sweet was such a man. His claim to fame was writing cheap romance novels. He was a good writer. He sold a few books, but the small percentage offered by publishers and the significant competition in the genre left him with little, if any real wealth. Johnny lived in a small, one bedroom flat in the western suburbs of Sydney. He delicately skated across the thin ice that kept him above the poverty line. Every aspect of his existence was a struggle. He struggled to pay his bills, struggled to put food on his table and struggled to sell his writing. His world gradually squeezed in on him. The bills piled up relentlessly, especially his rent. If a cheque didn’t arrive soon, Johnny would be in deep trouble. He’d already contemplated life on the streets among the many […]
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