Hall which I was on familiar ground.

  Having attended Sandgate High School; on many occasions Sandgate Town Hall was used by the school for theatre plays; meetings and any other activity the school wanted to perform. These Saturday night dances bought back happy memories of my days attending high school.

  This period was highlighted by hearing ‘The Beatles’ music play on the radio, record player, if one was fortunate enough to have one, or to sing along to the lyrics of their songs. If there was a heaven, I think perhaps, I could have been there.

  One night at a dance, an angel in disguise arrived. She was seated on a long seat waiting to be asked to dance. You see in those times it was gentlemanly when you wanted to dance to walk up to your dance partner and ask ‘if they wanted to dance’. When she accepted, I thought I was floating on cloud nine.

  Because of my adolescent mind – I think I fell instantly in love with this angel. I now acknowledge from personal experience, this could have been puppy love, for me it was the real thing at the time.

  We danced to the music of the Beatles and by the end of the night swore to one another we would see each other again. Actually, I never ever wanted her out of my sight to tell the truth.

  After I received my next weekly pay I purchased a record player and two Beatle’s records, played them over and over until the needle on the record player was almost worn out. Memories of the night returned with my angel and each word sang by John, Paul, Ringo or George resonated to imagines of my angel and I dancing to their music.

  Alas, all good things had to come to an end. My angel for the time being didn’t want to be serious about our relationship and only wanted to be ‘friends’. My mind shattered by this news, I returned to the music of ‘The Beatles’ and if music is the food of love – play on.

  Word count: 379

  Where Am I

  Actually I have no idea where I am. Over the past week my mind has been lost, in a haze. I don’t remember anything of my life, possibly only rising from bed each morning, wondering about the house and finally at night retiring to bed.

  Over this past week I dropped off into a world of unknown. Thoughts emerged as grey headed monsters; creating illusions of living apart from my own body. I had no control over my thoughts or images in my mind.

  Slowly my temperature burned against my forehead, coughing overtook my chest with each cough I felt another bone shatter. Muscles throughout my body contracted and pained to such a degree I wanted to leave this earth and take whatever was due for the bad deeds I’d done through my life.

  Thursday night was normally fish and chip night. My mouth turned away a morsel of fish and I headed to bed for solace; peace and relief. After fourteen hours of continuous sleep, weird dreams, I awoke to the sun beaming through the window.

  Without eating breakfast I retired back to bed. I slept for another four hours. Dreadful dreams overtook my mind – I couldn’t figure out reality from fiction. I had no control.

  A voice shattered these dreams when I was asked to ‘get out of bed’ and sit on the veranda to soak up some vitamin ‘S’ for sun.

  Sipping a cup-of-tea and chewing a biscuit made a small relief; my throat roared with tenderness as I tried to overcome the harsh reality, there was something wrong.

  I showered and shaved, replaced the soaked clothes I wore with clean fresh attire. My mind continued in a fog unable to recognize the world I once lived. Where am I – swept through my mind? Somehow, I couldn’t remember.

  Weakened by the ordeal I returned to bed. There I stayed for the following twenty-four hours. My mind was far too weak to watch my usual night programme ‘Home and Away’. I couldn’t have cared what happened to the characters which I’d religiously watched since it started in 1988.

  Finally on the seventh day began the first day my mind became clearer and I was able to ‘get about’ to discover where I was. I discovered I was at home and over the past week had suffered a dose of influenza.

  Word count: 398

  The Stalker

  Slowly I crept into bed, under the sheet, pulled a blanket over my shoulders and lay my head on the pillow. My body felt better than it had felt over the past week.

  Scientific evidence told me influenza only took ten days to clear from your body. The cycle of no more aches and pains; no more sneezing; coughing or feeling light headed. Keep warm and drink plenty of fluids.

  I was feeling much better than I was a week previously, when honestly I thought these were the final days I had on earth. Each day I felt much better than the day before and moved around more freely.

  Suddenly without warning, the stalker appeared from no where. Coughing started again, this time with less intensity than a week before, my nose started to run again, my chest thought it was plugged with phlegm and with each breath, thought it could’ve been my last.

  I didn’t want to go through the trauma I went through the previous week with my head swelled to almost bursting. The stalker was closing in on me and if I wasn’t careful he’d devour the essence of my body once more.

  Fighting with all of my might, I drank glass after glass of water, to keep the stalker away from my inner body. I remained home in my own sanctuary of hidden space, not allowing the stalker to penetrate the inner senses of my being.

  In my fight to overcome influenza the previous week I succumbed to overdosing on medication. This drove my mind into ruptures of imagination seeing monsters and other unearthly creatures. This time I was going to stand and fight the stalker, not allow him to enter my inner body to cause havoc as he’d done a week before.

  Clothing myself in warm attire, relaxing sitting in the sun, each thought; to fight off the stalker so he couldn’t enter those channels of my body to cause influenza.

  Friday it appeared I’d fought off this evil creature and by Saturday I felt confident. The stalker had had enough of me and went on his merry way to some unsuspecting human being to force himself onto that person. As long as he kept away from me – that was the important thing.

  Word count: 383

  Man Hunt

  In 1954 my family moved to live in Roma, a western town on the edge of the Darling Downs. We lived in a half-a-house, which now is commonly called a duplex.

  At the time I was six years old and everything in my life was exciting. My parents worked and together with my sibling sisters we enjoyed our life.

  I remember one night after my father returned home from his work, he spoke of a ‘man hunt’ in the town. This story suddenly took my interest.

  I didn’t know what a ‘man hunt’ was only the fact my father held an empty large beer bottle in his right hand and proclaimed he would place the bottle beneath his pillow and sleep with it. If the man was to enter our small dwelling he would defend the family with the empty beer bottle.

  Being a child of six years old, my mind took on all types of imagined scenes of a man breaking into my humble home, threatening our family, and good old dad standing up to him holding an empty beer bottle.

  In those days I slept on a small single bed in my parent’s bedroom, in a corner near to the door. I couldn’t sleep for fear of being accosted by this man who was subject to the ‘man hunt’.

  Obviously throughout the night I must have fallen asleep at some stage because in the morning I awoke with my father depositing the empty beer bottle into the trash can.

  He’d heard on the local news the ‘man hunt’ was over and the police had apprehended the wanted man. I never found out why he was wanted by the police.

  This memory has remained with me for the remainder of my life. I suppose when I think about the course of action my father did at the time, his intentions were to protect his family if the man entered our humble home.

  Fear can put the wind up most of us at any one time or another. I know as a child of six years old, visions of being accosted by this man, certainly put the wind up me to feel fear. I didn’t know what the man would have done if he’d entered our home, or if my father would’ve accosted him wit
h the empty beer bottle.

  It was a relief to our family to learn the police had apprehended the man wanted for the ‘man hunt’ and Roma returned to a sleepy country town as it was known.

  Word count: 426

  Que Sera Sera

  My mother was a wonderful human being. I loved her dearly. She left us too early in our life to truly understand how gifted and loving individual she was.

  I remember in my teens; for some unknown reason after I dated a girl, who I thought to be special; after three months for one reason or another, we broke up.

  Each time I was heartbroken and honestly thought there was something wrong with me. My mother came to the rescue each time.

  Her words still echo in my mind, ‘you’ll know when the right one comes along.’

  Throughout my teenage years my mates meet and married their sweethearts, however, after a couple of years, they divorced. I suppose the words my mother told me were true, ‘I would know when the right one came along.’

  A week before my twenty-third birthday my mother passed away. I grieved her loss. I don’t know if she was looking down from heaven to arrange a meeting with my future bride to be.

  A friend introduced us and from the moment I saw her; my mother’s words rang in my ears, ‘you’ll know when the right one comes along.’

  I don’t know if it was chemistry between us or my mother could see from heaven we should be together. She also said, ‘what will be – will be.’

  Within