Reibus

February 2019 - How do you feel as you grow up, get old, lose your family and friends? Did you love your parents? Where are they? Did you have a dog you loved? Alice wondered... Darling Mum It's ten years since I left you, five years since I saw you... and far too long since you've written to me. I don't even know where to send my letters for you now. I have written to you quite a lot, at least recently. I miss you every day, every week, every year. I wish I knew where you are. You were the angel of my childhood. You were passionate and sensitive, you cared for me, took me out, dressed me up. You made beautiful dresses for me, you massaged me, you brushed my hair, you danced with me, you walked with me. As you grew old I became a carer for you, cherished you. I rubbed your feet, I brushed your hair: such soft and beautiful grey hair! We talked together and laughed together. But I know, as I grew up and visited you less, you became lonely. Your love for dad seemed to ...

She starts crying. Deeply. Painfully. Shuddering sobs which grip her whole body. Her t-shirt soaks in her tears, clings onto her body, reveals the small little tummy roll, shows off her nipples. She sweats but doesn't even notice it; drips out of her hair, under her arms, between her legs. The clock silently ticks by. 17 minutes when she can't cry any more. She rolls into a ball, as if she is an embryo, tucks her elbows in beside her, crosses her feet. She has a very bad headache; she ignores it. Her eyes are very sore; she keeps them closed. She concentrates on her breathing, and it takes her quite a few minutes to get her ordinary deep breath back. She has to get her pulse down, she thinks. 30 minutes when she opens her eyes. She knows she has to think about this. So often it happens. Something probably really small got her pulse up. Most times nothing else will happen, she can get it down, be "normal". But if the second thing happens while she holds her breath...

Tammy didn’t know what was happening. She was asleep. So painless. So wonderfully peaceful. She couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t speak. Why were those people hanging around? Why couldn’t she talk to them? She didn’t panic. She thought she smiled, but no-one would smile back at her.  She floated out of and over her body, watched it sleeping. She even saw people with tears in their eyes. Why? And she couldn’t talk to anyone!  She felt a lovely life, floating around in the corners of her room, able to go outside if she wanted to, visit other people in this building. She smiled at others and some smiled back. Only who were asleep. Like her. What was life? Was she still alive? Was she just asleep? She knew: yes, she knew – her body was asleep. She had time; she had to explore. She floated down the hallway, looking at people in that hallway, wondering why they looked so busy, or seemed very upset, or, occasionally, just laughed. Wonderful people! Or mayb...

February 2018 - Small cars often seem to have incidents. Some roll over. This one did.  ABC in September 2017  wrote a short article about the most dangerous cars, many of which were small cars - have a look if that interests you. This short story includes a car accident and a woman who is recovering from... what? What do you think? She'd never heard music on the farm. She heard it now, almost mute. She turned towards it. She was moving towards the road, where she had never been since she'd been here, after her own accident. It was supposed to be about recovery, yet the music outside her farm house got louder. She couldn't go onto the road. She crouched behind the hedge, crawled along, getting closer to it. She peeked through the hedge, trying to find where it was. It came from the other side of the road.  Damn ! she whispered. Then she saw it. A blue car, a small blue car, rolled almost onto its side, hidden almost in the drain over there. She gasped. She sat down...

September 2017 - Often nowadays I forget to write. I haven't written in any of my blogs for a while, and I haven't written a short story - until now, when I joined a Bachelor of Arts group through OUA and for Griffith University. My major will be "Creative Writing" - if I can do that! This prose is not a short story, but tells how my Pops got me to love reading. From that, I wrote. My grandfather was a reader. He loved books and I became enchanted with them when I discovered his bookshelves hidden behind the huge couch. Before he taught me about his own books, he bought a book each for me and my brother and sisters every birthday and every Christmas. I remember that Enid Blyton's  The Children of the Cherry Farm  (1940) and  The Magic Faraway Tree  (1943) were written before I was born, but I didn't read them until I was a preteen: around 9 or 10. Dymocks' recent book page overview describes  The Magic Faraway Tree  in these words:  "escape from th...

When I was very young war seemed, to me, to be too far away from me. We had a wonderful childhood! But as I grew up it came closer - a lot closer, with many soldiers from ANZAC going to Vietnam. I even went into an anti-Vietnam war protest march in Victoria St, Hamilton NZ, while I was still at school. There were quite a few other students. Not too long after that I joined the NZ Army - I thought I should join to stop war! I was a Corporal when I finally left. I still didn't truly understand war, but at that stage women were not supposed to actually fight on the war front. I have understood, too many years, what war is - and who starts it. Have a read of this poem and see if you really understand, not only the history but today. Listen to music they wrote about war Try and understand words You must know whatever they say They're singing about what occurred They sang about the Holocaust PNG and Vietnam And nuclear bombs which hit Japan And Spain, Korea and Guam Wh...

Finding people who would talk to me and are very close to home is leading me to positive thoughts. I can work against my depression, get back to where I used to be! If you have mental illness and you need support, there are quite a few of mental health websites on Google. I tried to start again, just months along from attempting to finish my life when time went wrong I didn't forgive "them" - they knew what they did - they didn't care about me, I vanished when they got rid Depression took me over, but some people did care became my friends - showed me, look, talk, share I think much better now, examining my future, my life is coming right, I'm starting to feel sure I drop, just occasionally, when things take too long but I can survive, I should know that - I am STRONG... Wish me well, all you who once knew me because I am different, I'm starting to BE!