Past stories

COVID 19

Well the first week's nearly over
I'm running out of gin
The 4 walls that protect us
are slowly closing in.
My hair is almost grey now
My minge is growing dreads
people are complaining
what goes on in their heads?
I cannot see my partner
We've said "I'll see you later"
But in these long, long weeks ahead
I'll dust off my vibrator
I've cleaned all my skirting boards
and calloused up my knees
I've tried my hand at yoga
and mastered Japanese.
But worse than this damn virus,
the pandemic of the fools
the ones who will still congregate
and are breaking all the rules.
Now Charlie has the virus!
What do you think of that?
He's forever being punished
for eating that old bat.
I've cleaned out all my cupboards,
done jobs that no one loves
I've trimmed my lawn with scissors
and manicured my gloves.
Thankfully I have my child
puzzles, crafts and games
but living on rice risotto
is driving me insane!
So if you're feeling lonely
throughout this lock down caper
be thankful for the internet
and your toilet paper!

Out the window

​

They were coloured grey-blue with reddish-brown specks, oval-shaped and I loved them. Kept admiring them. There were others like them, but none as beautiful, and they were hard to find. My father had taught me how to make holes in both ends and blow the contents out. When I had done that they joined my bird’s egg collection, which was growing larger all the time. They were laid out in a large box. I had even thought about taking them to school but thought the other kids would break them, and I wasn’t having that. My parents were too busy with the new twin babies they had brought home last week. Little devils they were, couldn’t do anything except lie there, but I suppose they were my brothers.

​

I was on my computer typing, besides me are my pride and joy – my eggs. I am typing up labels, have just typed up magpie twice, as I have the two grey-blue eggs. What was that noise, there was a tap on the window, something was outside. I decided to ignore it, after all, I was too busy. But it kept on, louder and louder. I had drawn the blinds, it was early evening, but thought I should look to see what was making that noise. It was a magpie and there were lots more behind the bird, and it meant business. It had a steely look in its eyes, and it was pecking, pecking, pecking at the window. It is a wonder my parents had not heard it but I suppose they were too busy with the twins. Who cares about them! “Shoo, go away” but the bird took no notice. Its beak looked vicious, and I was getting a little frightened by now. Then it happened, the window broke, in the bird came, followed by all the others. Nothing I could do stopped them. However, it wasn’t me they wanted. They just ran past, out into the hall, and into the lounge where my brothers were. What were they doing?

​

Then I saw them. They went straight to the bassinets and before anyone could stop them, they were onto the twins, pecking, pecking and pecking, especially at their eyes, blood everywhere Then realisation came. They were paying me back. I had taken this bird’s babies, so now they were taking mine. How was I going to tell my parents? That day was the day I found a new hobby – knitting. It is far less dangerous.

This is your Project description. Provide a brief summary to help visitors understand the context and background of your work. Click on "Edit Text" or double click on the text box to start.

Covid 19 continues

Six weeks into lockdown

And man, I look like shit!

I just saw my reflection,

and there’s no denying it.

Botox has worn off now,

you can see my real expression.

When it comes to waxing,

I’ll need a double session.

I have half a foot of regrowth,

I’m cutting my own fringe.

But the most disturbing thing,

is the status of my minge!

I reckon birds are nesting,

and I fear I may have fleas.

It’s hard to keep your pubes in check 

when they hang to your knees. 

When we started lockdown,

I had my skincare nailed.

It only lasted the first two weeks,

but now, has sadly failed.

I have wrinkles deep as valleys,

and pimples, red and sore.

Brows' and lashes faded,

I’ve aged 10 years, I’m sure.

My frown lines have now deepened,

whilst smile lines have faded.

My inner glow has dimmed now,

I’m looking old and jaded.

I spend my day in nightwear,

then stay up half the night,

I’m drinking to oblivion,

to give me some respite.

I hope it’s nearly over,

I can’t take any more.

I need some motivation,

my old self to restore.

I now implore my mirror,

to give a good result,

Yet I know that my reflection,

is all Covid’s fault.

Train journey

​

It was early December but there was a chill in the wind. The station was bustling with

excited youngsters, bored teenagers and long-suffering parents. I glanced at the station

clock, tried to establish if I had time to go for a brisk walk around the block to keep warm.

My husband shook his head, no, too late, we’ll miss the train. Or at least a good seat. So

instead I looked around for a “coffee” sign. I poked my head into the station shop. No

Coffee Sign in sight. Just a carousel of postcards, tatty souvenirs and bookcases of vintage timetables. A fridge half full of Fanta and H2O. A cardboard sign on the counter informed us the eftpos machine is down, cash only today. I put back the notebook and pencil set, girls trailing behind me, sulking. Sorry girls, we don’t have any cash on us, everything is on Visa. In all our travels over the previous year, we had only encountered one other cash-only

station. We had been touring through Italy and it turned out our 4-star hotel just outside

the city centre was actually a 2-star hostel two train tickets from Rome Central Station. That

second station was cash only. But we always made sure we had some local currency on us

in case of such emergencies. But not today.

​

At least the two minutes inside provided a little shelter from the bitter wind. The train

pulled up on platform # 1, time to embark on our journey. It’s always a gamble, do we stand

in the middle of the platform, or make our way to the front doors. Of course, the back ones

are for those who miscalculated the time and end up having to run to catch it. Which

means sweaty bodies and heavy breathing and raised tempers. Where will the best seats

be? We have enough time to make our way to the front doors. “Stand back girls, let those

people get off first.” But other children had already pushed their way in front of us. I felt my

shoulders tense up. I’ll be really annoyed if we couldn’t find 4 seats together, or worse, no

seats at all.

​

But we were in luck, four seats close together. A short tussle between the girls as to who

got the window seat. Finally, at least three minutes overdue, we heard the whistle and the

doors closed. The train started to move and immediately the girls shouted “whoa! We’re

going backwards!”. A quick change of seats between children and parents before everyone

settled back. The view was truly breathtaking. We saw green paddocks with a backdrop of

snowcapped mountains. Predictably, the girls declared they were hungry a minute into the

journey. I never board a train without a good supply of snacks.

​

About seven minutes later we were back at the Plains Museum platform.

This is your Project description. A brief summary can help visitors understand the context of your work. Click on "Edit Text" or double click on the text box to start.