Haiku for exit row
You are all too short To sit in the exit row And I’m really squished
Haiku for exit row
You are all too short To sit in the exit row And I’m really squished
Everyone at Helen’s old workplace knew her shoes squeaked when she walked. And they knew what she did to mask the humiliation of the squeak.
Everyone at Helen’s new workplace just thought she walked while involuntarily grunting loudly.
I’ve claimed the arm rest Not because I wanted it Because big strong boy
Tina hit pause. This was the season finale of Road Train Romance, but she could see something wasn’t right with Cody.
‘Babe. It’s make or break for Ross and Joseph! I really think they’re going to move in to Ross’s pimped our sleeper cab together’, she urged.
Ross and Joseph’s Road Train Romance was prime water cooler chatter every Monday. The recap podcasts were drooling over it.
And Cody was all in for Ross and Joseph. Over eight gruelling episodes their road transport-based affections had blossomed, from primal lust to amour fou to real love.
But just as Ross and Joseph’s televisual entanglement strengthened, another love had come undone.
Cody’s childhood friend Mike was getting divorced. And as best man at Mike and Melissa’s wedding, Cody had been first to learn the sad news.
Cody looked up at Tina.
‘What do we do about Mike and Melissa?’, he breathed hopelessly.
‘There’s nothing we can do!’, Tina replied. Mike and Melissa had sealed their own fate.
‘But who do we go with!? Which side do we take?’ This was less a conundrum than a desperate plea.
Tina brought clarity, always: ‘Well Mike’s your mate, but he was the cheater. And Melissa’s great, but wasn’t she really part of a package deal?’
Tina was right. Always.
Cody reached for the remote. Unpaused ‘Road Train Romance’.
Twenty minutes later, as the credits rolled, Cody’s face was tear stained. His hands clasped tightly. Ross and Joseph had said goodbye for the last time. An impossible love. Ross bound for Coober Pedy, Joseph for Broome. Star-cross’d.
Knowing Road Train Romance was over unless renewed for a second season was more than Cody could bear.
‘I choose neither of them’, he said.
Tina was confused. ‘What?’, she uttered.
‘Not Mike. Not Melissa. I choose to go with neither side. I’m just going to be friends with neither’, said Cody defiantly.
A grateful smile broke over Tina’s face. A tear ran down her cheek.
‘Babe’, said Tina, ‘I think that’s the right call. I’m so proud of you.’
Cody exhaled gently. Leant back, enveloped by couch cushions. Tina snuggled in, and together they lamented the end a great love. #RossAndJosephSleeperCab4Eva
Odd Paul opens a can of creaming soda. It’s the original kind. And boy is it creaming.
Odd Paul places the can on the side table he fashioned from a poorly varnished slice of tree.
Odd Paul picks up his smart device and scrolls.
Odd Paul steps back through time, but not by reading old chats and reminiscing. He stands, lunges his right leg backward, his heel briefly collects the couch behind him, then bursts through it.
When he gets to old times, Odd Paul fascinates people, for they’ve never smelled creaming soda breath.
And also because he materialised from another age.
Why did you leave us? You made some fish, which was nice But then you fucked off
Barbers do not judge They maintain mullets and fades Smiling serenely
Say what you will about Michael Jackson, he is the only person in recorded history to have pronounced the word ‘mirror’ correctly.
Americans say either ‘meerrr’ or ‘miyerr’.
Australians say ‘mirra’.
MJ had it right. And whatever we selectively forget about him, we should remember that.
Old friends reunion A sudden urge to update The apps on my phone
Adrian reached for his Mum’s hand.
‘Mummy, I think I can totally handle wasabi now. Like... it’s not too spicy or anything.’
Adrian’s mother offered an encouraging smile.
‘Of course you can darling. I knew you’d do it.’
And you’re 42 years old, she thought.
And she knew she’d never tell him the full story. He couldn’t know.
That she had always bought him medium sized underpants and sewn an XL tag into the waistband to reassure him he was a big boy.
That she’d cleared the children’s hill on a family ski trip and assured him this was a black diamond run.
That the wasabi industrial complex had gradually diluted the version of its green condiment that was manufactured for Anglophone markets with mushed up peas and broccoli stems.