# 11 “Oscar” by Mia Galo
He sat in his favourite chair by the window…looking toward the ocean. His face motionless; his skin weathered from years of exposure. A large bird flew by. His eyes stayed fixed…dead ahead. As the sun moved across the sky the trees threw shadows like barcodes and clouds began to form in the south. In the background…… music… faint…insignificant…lost on the wind. Night began to fall…his life was on replay.
#12 “Damsel” by Suzi Poland
She lived high on the hill and had a wardrobe full of dresses other girls would die for, even kill for. “She’s got dresses for dis, ‘n’ dresses for dat” they’d say when they spoke of her in the bars. Then one night, she found herself with them, all dolled up when a fight broke out. Suddenly she realised what she needed was pants. She panicked and screamed for help. “OMG girls, I can’t fight, I’m in dis dress!”
#13 “Inside” by Suzi Poland
As the rain poured down, she sat inside and he continued his routine. The occasional glance was awkward with each of the comings and goings between the doorways. Their status had never been re-established since the altercation, nor would it be for quite some time. Not at least until what needed to be done…was done.
#14 “Winter” by Mia Galo
There is something odd about our connection to fond things… places…thoughts. Intellectual thoughts of suffocating brilliance. It’s not too long before adjectives and paradoxes devour our existence…the belly of your red edge lies exposed and vulnerable…as love has a way of teaching us things.
And you mourn the frown that caught the depths of winter in the hollow of his back…
#15 “SheMan” by Suzi Poland
SheMan’s so driven, she likes to win. So focused, she doesn’t see others as competition, she doesn’t see them at all. So fast, she doesn’t notice them fall, she stays on her track and ignores it all. When she’s out there in front, running her own race, she’s alone, the winner at last. SheMan’s so successful she turns HeMan into HeWoman, she turns SheWoman into tears, then touching her chin, she feels her hairs!
#16 “Memory” by Suzi Poland
“It wont be long ’til Christmas” Nana said, as everyone tried not to look sideways at each other. “Better get you a present, what would you like?”. “Will you be going away?”. Later that night she called and shed a tear, for she’d realised it was only late May. Just then everyone wished it was Christmas.
#17 “Cubby” by Suzi Poland
It was busy in the house as the rain poured down. So many comings and goings. So much to clean and prepare. All for a wonderful party. You see, it was Granny’s 75th so there had to be enough food, decorations and chairs for everyone.
It was just perfect when the guests arrived mid afternoon, full from the festivities and walked into the garden. There, in the little house on the edge of the lawn, was their life in miniature.
#18 “Exhausted” by Suzi Poland
It had been a long walk for Mrs Beat. That morning everyone was excited to get to the top. Half way up she’d taken a side track and found all sorts of things to delight her. Hearing them from the top she knew they would take hours to come down. So she walked on, up and down. She saw so much and met so many. At sunset, she turned and realised, she hadn’t walked up one just mountain, she’d traversed the whole range.
#19 “awaiting title” by Alison Crawley
My dog Molly was euthanased at Easter. Was Molly really my dog or the family dog? Who ‘owns’ a dog? The person who feed, walks & baths her or the people who wanted her from the begining but didn’t attend to her daily needs? Molly was part of our family for 14 years, but it was I who attended to her daily needs so she …is ‘my’ dog. Or is she? Who wrestled with her, took her for rides in the back of their car, sometimes, or always let her pull off their socks & occasionally sleep on their bed? She was our dog!
#20 “Queenie” by Suzi Poland
With everything in it’s place and everyone subserviently in fear, she ruled her queendom with pride. Trinkets from her various quests assured mere mortals that this really was reality. Then the curtain opened to reveal her castle as a room upon a stage in a small theatre, in a walled village, within a valley, far from the world beyond. If only she was grateful that her part was small, then everyone could love her.
#21 “R.I.P.” by Suzi Poland
For three close to three close to me…
One was from alcohol,
one off a cliff,
the other in a helicopter.
One leaves a young daughter,
one a group intensly studying,
the other a country wondering.
I can pray for the new mother,
I can console the friends,
but can I stand up and ask our leaders…
Why are we in a war with others in countries far from our shores?
#22 “Sheep” by Suzi Poland
Someone left the sheep gate open and in they followed, one by one or sometimes in twos. Some were sheep, some were ewes. Either way they just followed, with no idea where they were doing or what they were going.
Later they would say, “We were young. We had no idea”. There was no point the farmer getting distraught, as they didn’t stray from the flock. Really it would make life easier when he was ready to go to market.
#23 “Slipped” by Suzi Poland
Slipped between the cracks, no one really noticed him. I mean they never took notice, that is except for his smell. The pungent stench that exuded from every pore in his ill-clad body. Pushing a pram full of discarded cans, he roamed the streets finding a home amongst the cracks. Cracks in an otherwise perfect facade of what everyone believed was a beautiful city.
#24 “Devo” by Suzi Poland
Devo, it’s how she felt. She wished she didn’t, but there was no point pretending. Tears poured from her eyes until they were sore. She wiped them but they returned. Her nose too, was reddened by her heart. It was only a small defeat but defeat none the less. She could sit and wallow or continue on brave heartedly. Looking forward to the blanket of darkness that evening would provide … she got a call from her girlfriends.
#25 “Noticed” by Suzi Poland (part II to “Slipped”)
In Smallville, people noticed. His shaking body, bare feet, ragged hair, long beard and old hat. They still veared away when he passed them on the street. Was it his stench? His constant chattering? Was it how he made them feel? In Smallville people knew his name, they left him food, shoes, clothes. They knew nothing would change, but in Smallville at least, they noticed him.
#26 “Pumped” by Suzi Poland
Red was so pumped, so excited, he could pop. Another day he might’ve been joined by friends but today it was just him, dressed with a bow. He began to rise up and take his place above the rest, although he wouldn’t travel far just yet. He remained in his place for most of the day until whoever was in charge, got distracted and let him go. Up up and away, with the hand left far below. How high would he go? We’ll never know!
#27 “Facebook” by Suzi Poland
written in response to fb video: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=10150238694155484&ref=mf
I’d love to tell my story of how I was on FB one day trying to tell a story when I got a message “Your status update is too long. The maximum status length is 420 characters”. So I started the creative writing Group “420 Characters”. Barely 3 months old and 26 stories have been written. Unfortunately as it’s a Group I dont own copyright to all content, so I cannot agree to the Terms and Conditions of “FB stories”.
# 28 “Sitting” by Suzi Poland
with video: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=154866711196372&oid=125303967480048
Where were you
today at 2,
while I was sitting by the sea?
I hope you were,
working hard,
rather than missing me.
And if you weren’t,
what were you doing,
pining after me?
For today at 2
all I could think of was you,
while sitting by the sea.
Suzi Poland 16.3.10
# 29 “Stingy” by Suzi Poland
Mrs Stingy didn’t like helping others. She didn’t like them copying her either. So the day she had to teach her child to drive, she moaned. But soon she realised her childs’ journey would never be the same. Instead one day she’d say “See you there” knowing they could get ‘there’ from wherever they were. Once ‘there’ they could meet and share another moment of their short lives together. Mrs Stingy began to smile.
# 30 “Finished!” by Suzi Poland
crawling over the finishing line … Miss Champion realised there was no line, no end, but rather the beginning of something beautiful!
#31 “Worship” by Suzi Poland
Ms Dili Gent had been up in the Monastery of Money worshiping the God of Commerce for 8 days straight when, in an enlightened moment she realised she had 12 Gods to keep happy and only 7 days in the week. No wonder she was so frazzled. On the way down, she decided she could loose some of them, or tell them they would have to make do with whatever she could offer. She smiled + began to feel a little bit more powerful.
#32 “Neighbours!” by Suzi Poland
One day, retired and bored, he’d begun painting the underside of his house which he and his new wife had extended to within a metre of the favourite part of Miss Lazy Susan’s garden. The part where she loved to relax alone or with family and dog. A place to dissolved all the worries of the world. Poor Mr Bob Ajob, couldn’t understand why she wasn’t so friendly when he popped his head over and said his vibrant “Hello”.
#33 “Blush” by Suzi Poland
Mr Stern Hart was a strange fellow. He was well liked by everyone but he never smiled, just went about his business serving customers attentitively. So it was quite a surpirse when one day he was observed laughing candidly and smiling with one of his customers, a Mrs Lily Whitelace. The gentle flush of red which began to flow into his cheeks, suggested that the young lady was more than just a regular customer!
#34 “Crushed” by Meg Johnson
Today I said farewell to Crumpet and the Crap Van. A sad day indeed. They gave their all in the line of duty. I stood alone in the dark and watched the tow truck driver hook them up and take them of to the big metal crusher in the sky. A tear or 2 was shed. ‘Tis the passing of an era.
To see a photo of Crap Van see: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=169119493104427&set=o.125303967480048
#35 ” Singer-ing” by Meg Johnson, 16 October 2010
An afternoon of discovery. Pulling off panels,
cleaning & de-rusting miniscule parts. Hours of fiddling, peering into
crevices, lubricating things and generally making an enormous mess.
After much
ado, hope, and seeking of wisdom from those knowledgeable in things mechanical,
I proudly exclaim: “She lives!”
My little old sewing machine is humming again!
Score: 1 for me.
Fat zero for built-in-obsolescence.
#36 “October” by Suzi Poland
As clocks are changed + days get longer,
flags are flown + blues get lighter.
The full moon comes + spring rains fall,
and frogs emit their nightly call.
The HSC + Halloween,
lighter frocks + some suncream.
But still it’s not the summer yet.
Heat on dusk + white ant clouds,
BBQs + lawn mowers loud.
All this + more is yet to come
so too the deafening cicarda’s drum.
www.pittwaterspirit.com.au/vignettes and http://www.facebook.com/pages/Avalon-Australia/1000-Words-for-Summer-project/286098323572?ref=ts
#37 “Absorbed” by Suzi Poland
She was listening but could she hear her? Softly spoken she tried to tell her things which mattered, things which meant much to her. Secrets from her inner world, things which had taken much to know. But no, her manner was too strong, too overbearing, too absorbed in her own world, her own thoughts, her own importance. She wasn’t loud enough, wasn’t strong enough, never would be.
…. Did it really it matter anyway? Those thoughts were her thoughts, secrets for her to cherish. Messages from another world.
#38 “Moonswept” by Ruth Ingall
And so the same full moon that heralds the harvest after my summer’s blistering heat washes the softest spring light onto the waves at Avalon Beach. The perfect peaches and tomatoes of my summer surrender to the pumpkins and oranges that hold warmth and heat in their very cells and skins. Now I know why the moon cries happy tears on the ocean that lies between this Australian-born woman and those who read my words.
#39 “Red” by Daniel Roxenberg 26th October 2010
Calm before the storm. A hollow wind blows in from the west. Tumbleweeds thrown like ragdolls across parched earth… eyes brimming with sand. Holed up in my green cocoon…although it’s more khaki than green these days… the clinking of flying rocks against the windscreen.
I watch as a blanket of red dust rolls in like a symphony… taking with it everything in its path … thick…sandstorm red…and ruthless.
#40 “Landed” by Suzi Poland
Body is safe, held still by the belt. Mind, still thinking, will rest when it finally sleeps. But Spirit travels on. On to places not yet seen + back to where it’s sometimes been. A scent, a sight, a fractured sound, instantly transporting, without jetlag, to where it seems as real as if really there. Stirring, whirling, fleeting, fleeing, until it comes to rest, inside Body, along with Mind who shared those travels.
#41 “Oblivious” by Rae Ward-Lerew
He went and sat under a tree in his garden and looked up at its majesty. Laying his hands upon its broad trunk, he whispered desperately – insane words of doubt and wonder. After a time it grew dark, and slowly the tree began to respond with tendrils of thought winding through the man’s mind. He was not so eccentric, was he? For the truth be now bared to him. The wind was only to conceal the speaking of world’s nature. Thus the power of the sleeping race was revealed – the trees to come forth and recreate the Forgotten Land. The man sat in grace under his tree. So small was he – the humans outcasting him, and yet he holding the whole world in his forsaken head. But he would be glad of humankind’s second downfall. Let them die – and too, alone.
#42 “42″ by Suzi Poland
… 42
?
Suzi Poland