‘New world order? Mine is for children to leave home at nineteen,’ David looks in the rear vision mirror at his two daughters, hoping for a reaction. They aren’t listening, hooked into their devices. The car purrs along; the grey Trans-Am. It had seemed like an extravagance, but Luce had dared him. ‘It’s always been on the Bucket List to drive a Trans-Am on Route 66.’
Continue reading “Trans Am”Tag: mum
Mum
An excerpt from an unpublished memoir, The Year of Everything by Erica Murdoch.
That night, I sat by the riverbank with Em. She slapped at the mosquitoes buzzing around her ankles. A fish jumped in the middle of the river, and a mopoke hooted its mournful cry. Our hurricane lamp was a beacon for moths. Our warm champagne tasted silky smooth and sweet in the darkness as we toasted in 1985.
Continue reading “Mum”The Last Christmas
The first time I cook a turkey is a week before my mother dies.
Mum
On New Year’s Eve, I sit on the bank of the Murrumbidgee River with my friend, Em. She slaps and curses at the mosquitoes buzzing around her ankles. A fish jumps in the middle of the river and a mopoke hoots its mournful cry. Our hurricane lamp is a beacon for moths. Our warm champagne tastes silky smooth and sweet in the darkness as we toast in 1985. Continue reading “Mum”
The Pelvic Floor Coffee Club 