‘Yes, I get it. I didn’t want to hurt you.’ Günter leaned closer and gently brushed his hand across my cheek. I clasped his hand in mine. Usually at this point of the relationship, I return the hand to its owner and proceed to give the owner a lecture based on the ground rules of too much physical familiarity breeds regret and that based on my Christian principals… However, in the case of Günter, and I guess Fox back in Strahan, my principals had taken a hike, and my presence of mind had joined them. I regretted what happened in Strahan.
Mr. B was not in a good mood as we headed for Kingoonya. He moaned, ‘Hurry! No more stops.’ Then he groaned, ‘Oooh, I’m feeling a bit seedy, you know.’
Dad frowned and glanced in his side mirror. ‘O-oh.’
My feet were frozen. I curled up, knees to my chin to gain some warmth. However, the action was futile, I was completely cold and wet. Water was rushing all around and over me. I gulped a mouthful of sand. Am I drowning?Read more "Out of the Chocolate Box (46b)"
At Haasts Bluff station we filled up with petrol, water, and supplies to last us in this virgin land. We were going where not many people, except the Indigenous, had gone before. Upon entering the land belonging to these people; there would be no shops, no houses, and no roads. To salute our departure from civilisation, we bought something to eat and drink. I ate a meat pie.Read more "The T-Team with Mr. B (28)"
‘Oh, this is wonderful!’ I gasped for the tenth time, then burst into song: ‘The hills are alive with the sound of music…’
‘Would you be quiet!’ Günter stormed off and raced ahead.
I strode up to Dad. ‘We need to swim, now!’
‘All good things come to those who wait,’ Dad replied. ‘I reckon it’s just around the next corner.’
The police officers hovered over the remains of Boris. His severed body lay each side of a boulder. The male officer spoke into his walkie-talkie while the female galloped behind, chasing us, gaining on usRead more "Out of the Chocolate Box (32)"