This is REAL and clever satire.
IT is a wild and howling day and the clouds tumble in the sky, thrust together by the wind’s impassioned roar.
Beneath at least 49 shades of grey a flagpole penetrates the horizon, entwined by royal blue and crimson.
Across the moist green mound two figures become visible – one rather more visible than the other – as they walk in opposite directions. And yet toward each other, always toward…
“Jacqui?” he asks, as though uncertain.
“Hello Clive,” she says. The sweet lilting melody of her Taswegian brogue floats on the breeze.
“You look well,” he says. She always did.
“So do you.”
“That’s not true and we both know it.” He tries to laugh but it turns into a coughing fit. Damn it! Why did she always have this effect on him?
“It’s been a while,” he tries again.
“It has,” she nods quietly.
“I waited for you,” he says. “At the meeting. At all the meetings actually. You never came.”
“I had something I needed to do.”
“Something?” he asks warily. “Or someone?”
“Clive, don’t…” She turns her head away.
“It’s him isn’t it? It’s ‘Mr X’.”
Now she tries to laugh but it’s awkward. “Don’t be silly. Nick and I are just good friends.”
“I can’t believe you’d leave me for someone with Lego hair.”
“That’s not his fault Clive, and you know it.” She stares at the ground. “It’s nobody’s fault.”
He realises he’s gone too far. “I’m sorry, it’s been tough,” he sighs. “I can’t sleep, I can’t…”
“Please,” she stops him. “Don’t do this to yourself. You’ve got to sleep, you’ve got to eat.”
“Who said anything about not eating?” he snaps.
She ignores him. “I just need my space at the moment,” she says. “I need to find out who I am.”
He looks at her with those big imploring eyes she could never resist. “Can’t you just check your driver’s licence?”
She shakes her head slowly and for a moment wonders where her Comcar is. “I don’t need a licence to drive, Clive. I need a licence to live.”
“Is it her?” he asks, broken now. “The redhead?”
“Pauline means nothing to me. You know there’s only room for one dumb Queenslander in my life.”
She smiles, and for a moment it feels like it did at the beginning. When it was just the two of them against the world.
He smiles back and feels a drop of moisture roll down his cheek. He hopes it’s just the spring Canberra rain, or perhaps Eric Abetz trying to spit on him from great height.
Either way he knows: Everything will be okay.
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For more everyday love stories watch Studio 10 from 8.30am each morning and listen to Triple M Drive 4-6pm every weekday.
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From today's offering by Joe Hildebrand.
Good thread Gemma. You might like this:
Thanks Gemma and Plan B, this one says it all
More Joe Hildebrand at http://blogs.news.com.au/dailytelegraph/joehildebrand/index.php/dailytelegraph/comments/exclusive_the_secret_liberal_crisis_meeting/
His writings are amusing.