The well trodden path

Piper fled to Europe.

Although she was not technically running from anything or anyone, she felt as if she needed to get away quickly. So she booked her flight, packed her bag, deferred university, quit her job and left a note for her housemate all inside an hour. She was in a taxi to the airport before she could lose her nerve.

When she was over the Atlantic her housemate discovered her note, shrugged his shoulders and opened a beer to watch television like he did every evening. She had left him the kettle, toaster, microwave and DVD player and knew he would be happy with these in exchange for a months rent. He would soon find another housemate to take her place as the flat was in the city and dirt cheap.

With loose ends tied up she pondered airplane food, deep vein thrombosis and french buns. She had an unsatisfying conversation with a fellow passenger about the dangers of jet flight. She had watched Grey Gardens on the small monitor in front of her and whacked her knee on the dinner cart on the way to the bathroom. She had read part of a book on European architecture, fallen asleep twice to be woken by a baby grizzling for mother’s milk. All of these things had happened before she wondered what the hell she was doing. In the grip of a question for which she did not know the answer, she had her first bona fide panic attack.

Remembering something vaguely about paper bags she searched the small pouch in front of her frantically. Her hands fumbled as she flicked the in-flight magazine and laminated safety card backwards and forwards desperately trying to establish the whereabouts of a thin paper vessel she could clasp around her mouth and nose and breathe into. Midst this searching the stewardess noticing her distress glided silently over to her and handed her a bag. Cupping her shoulder in her hand the stewardess flashed a beauty pageant smile and then silently glided away.

The short interaction served to distract Piper. What the hell was that? Her dazzling smile was supposed to transition the traveller seamlessly from hysteria to bliss? Slightly stunned she watched as the stewardess sashayed back up the aisle, occasionally leaning in to check on a passenger, working her magic and spreading world peace.

And so a moment where she could have succumbed to anxiety was saved by an orthodontic enhanced smiling air stewardess. There was most definitely great comedy in life.

Washing it all away

It rained.

It rained for days, so hard and so heavy it washed everything away.

It washed away the drought and the top soil.

It washed away river banks, pulling over river gums, turning bird nests into small boats, till they became water logged and sodden and pulled into the muddy maelstrom.

Cattle moved to higher ground were they stood waiting for lakes to recede to dams.

It crept between my jacket and my shirt, a drip turning quickly into a trickle.

I felt disappointment fall away, saturated and spent. I saw it drift down river with guilt and anxiety. Funny how strange you feel without the usual heavy heart.

I was liberated by a torrent of water.

Now I step lightly through the puddles, with a tingle all the way down into my fingertips.