Yvette opens the door and steps aside for Moses to enter. “I told you it wasn’t far. I love the walk.”
“Yes, it was pleasant. I like this time of day.”
Yvette points at the lounge room, just visible from the entry hall. “Please.”
Moses proceeds in the direction indicated and then stops when something crunches under his shoe. He lifts his foot and looks down at a crumbled biscuit.
“Sorry,” Yvette says. “Monique can be messy.”
Moses walks on into the comfortable room and makes his way towards a couch, skirting toys on the way. …
Moses, forty-five, dressed in neat, casual, dark slacks and a light-blue open shirt, walks through the café to the patio at the back. He stops at the table he usually sits at, the one in the corner, against the railing, overlooking the wooded creek below.
He feels put out. He has sat here every late afternoon for weeks, except on weekends. He looks around. There are seven other unoccupied tables. Why this one?
“I made sure no-one would sit here.”
Moses swings around on his heels. It’s Yvette. He knows her name because of her nametag.
“Oh,” is all…
Miguel takes the letter he has just opened to where his father Ricardo is sitting at his desk. Ricardo looks up. Miguel hands him the letter and Ricardo reads it.
“That’s good news. Now you have three to choose from,” Ricardo says.
“But that’s the problem. Dad. How do I choose? They’re all so different and two of them are interstate. I don’t want to get this wrong.”
“You won’t get it wrong. Wherever you end up, you’ll make it where you want to be.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll find that you may think you choose with your amazing…
Josh walks into the Forest Glen aged-care home. He goes over to where his grandmother, Miriam, is sitting in the lounge room, reading The Education of Oversoul Seven.
Miriam puts her book down. “Oh, hello Josh. What are you doing here straight after school?”
“Mum dropped me off while she’s taking Mick to judo. I thought I’d hang out a bit with Stavros.”
Miriam puts her hand on Josh’s arm. “Oh dear. I’m afraid you won’t be able to.”
Miriam has tears in her eyes. “Stavros passed away this afternoon, during his nap.”
Josh pulls his…
Libby is in her bedroom, writing an essay for her year twelve French class. The doorbell rings. She finishes a sentence and goes to see who it is — no-one else is home.
She opens the front door and stares. “Brett! What? I mean … I wasn’t expecting… I mean … sorry, come in.”
Brett looks taken aback as he walks past Libby into the hallway. She closes the door and looks at him, blinking rapidly.
Brett looks unsure of himself. “I thought I’d come and talk, because you know … I haven’t seen you since … that night.”
Lawyer, mediator, award-winning writer and photographer, living with his wife Sally in Mt Eliza, (south of Melbourne) Australia