Dad’s Promise of Delivery

In the car-park, tall eucalypt trees spread their blue-green canopy over the clearing and a growing population of four-wheel drive vehicles, cars, buses and tourists. ‘Wow! It’s only 9am and look at all the tourists!’ I exclaimed.
‘I thought you said this was the best gorge of the lot.’ Mr. B grimaced. ‘What’s all these tourists doing here?’
‘They must know it’s the best gorge,’ MB replied.

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Partners in the Fried Ice-Cream Conspiracy

I pointed from the boy group to the girl group. ‘You couldn’t find a partner for me, could you?’
‘Lee-Anne!’ Mrs. R said. ‘This is Hermannsburg, not Alice Springs!’
‘No stockman or lonely explorer, then?’
‘No, this is as good as it gets.’ She placed the glasses on the table. Besides, the blokes up here, I don’t think they’d be your type.’
Then I’m destined to be an old maid then. I sighed.

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Monday Missive

I recalled the old Mazda my Dad bought for a bargain because its rear had been damaged. The engine worked alright. Good for a new and inexperienced driver as I was back then…except the ol’ bomb with the dodgy back was a police-magnet.

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