|1.||the first snippet||Read it Now|
|2.||The dillema||Read it Now|
|3.||The nose picker||Read it Now|
|4.||stable memories||Read it Now|
|5.||Swiss swearing||Read it Now|
|6.||Old aquaintances||See below|
|“We meet again.” John, our uncle, says to a worn, severely ripped paper bag with colourful fabric spewing out of various crinkled gashes he’s brought in.|
“How does that bloody thing always manage to come with us?’’ Sven says, eyeing the unfinished quilt mum managed to smuggle with us for the seventh time this decade. “I thought you were going to leave it behind this time?” “Oh well, you never know, I might get some of it done this time.” “You never know honey, the blue moon might just come this year” dad winks as he puts his arms around mum.
“You wanna go to the beach on Tuesday after I’m done at school?’’ Jenna asks from next to the window. “Ok” I say from the bathroom.” “I got my P’s last month so I can drive us there.” I already knew this because she’s told me about five times, but I just nod and get into bed. It’s way too hot for even one of the three blankets put on my bed, but I get under them anyway. They make me feel safer somehow. The roof in this part of the house is amazing. It leaks, and as a result has begun to sag so much that I have to duck so I don’t bump my head.
I hear the door creak open, its Hank a permanent visitor from next door, a fat, bad tempered Persian cat. His hair’s been largely pruned and his udder like belly creases as he plops onto my bed, taking up more than his fair share of leg room. Somewhere out in the darkness I hear the lethargic croaking of frogs and the scratching of possums that have made themselves at home in the roof.
While I’m lying there, I can’t help grinning stupidly at the thought of seeing my grandma down in the passionfruit patch.because of her hip replacement, she sort of pendulums around like one of those wind up toys with the keys in their backs. Stooping over stiffly to pick up the fallen fruit with an old ladle.
If I had known about who I would encounter at the beach in the coming week, I probably would’ve invested in a better pair of swimmers. Still, I’m not really sure it would’ve changed what happened that much anyway.
END OF PART ONE, END OF STORY!
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