Lost World of the Wends (25)

Boris gazed at the human wailing and squirming on the ground.
‘Like a worm,’ he mused. Just like a little fat worm. That’s what these earth creatures reminded him of—what, with no shell, and all soft and fleshy. He held his rumbling abdomen. ‘Not yet,’ he spoke to his stomach as if it were a sentient being.

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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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Fried Indecision

As the morning progressed and plans for Glen Helen stalled in Dad’s indecision, I slouched on the lounge chair and watched him bustle about, walking back and forth, across the lounge room carpet, out to the Rover, back in with stuff in hand and stamping across the lounge room, through the kitchen, clunking around in the guest room, then back through kitchen, through the lounge room, out to the Rover and so he went to and fro’ for at least an hour.

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