To Kill a Bunyip

  ~~~~~~~

  The Seafood Festival.

  ‘Contraction or no Contraction: that is the question for the colon. I don’t like colons or semi colons. The basic action is abhorrent and undermines the mind of someone wanting to release their opinions on others. Whenever I see or hear of a colon or semi colon, I want to release. Release it figuratively because the action of the semi-colon is like the small intestine. Everybody loves prawns. Maybe not everyone but with our Seafood Festival a sign on the highway saying “Seafood Festival, then a semi colon, then, prawns, lobster, crabs, and fish to die for.” The use of a semi colon is not needed in this way. Colons create stomach cramps and I behove every user of redundant parts of the English language to stop using them,’ Father Fred said.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ Mary said.

  ‘Send them what I said. Put it on a church letterhead and I will sign it.’

  ‘Father, I think people will misunderstand you. The use of mixed metaphors will create confusion.’

  ‘And the use of a semi colon in the sign creates confusion too. Give confusion back to them.’

  ‘Oh well Father, whatever you say. As you say, God is guiding you, so I won’t argue.’

  Mary then left and typed the letter and Father Fred returned to studying the tides and moon phases. Climatology was one Father Fred’s interests and liked to compare weather forecasts against his own observations.

  ‘Father, the letter is on your desk and I’ll see you tomorrow. I have to go home now. Have a nice day.’

  ‘Thank you for your kind assistance Mary - may god give you peace. Yes, I intend to have a nice day.’

  As a deeply religious man Father Fred kept to himself and often walked alone through the town and observed nature and how nature changed before the weather. His love of fishing was known to be a thing of his past. Father Fred encouraged his flock to only take from the ocean and rivers that which was needed and to respect the rules. Today, Father Fred thought it fit and right to go to the shed and tidy things up. As Father Fred moved a cabinet, his fishing rod fell at his feet. His fly fishing rod he used for trout in streams and rivers near Mount Kosciusko. Father Fred sought out his lures and rigged the rod and reel ready. Father Fred had read somewhere of a Fly fishing expert catching barramundi near Weipa. Father Fred was hooked. A river monster caught on Fly fishing gear. And no one would believe him until he brought home fresh fish himself.