I dream of blue skies and clean sheets

Charlie

Charlie is a 20 year old exchange student at AIU for the Autumn semester in 2022. She was born and raised in Australia's capital amongst trees and singing birds. She wants future where she is happy in whatever choices she makes.

Shoulder

The train is as smooth as everyone says. She hopes it’s an omen for the rest of this new life she’ll be leading. Outside the round-edged window the fields have begun to get their green back after an especially frosty winter. It all passes mostly in a blur, fields and small houses, rickety roofs and well-worn steps.

It wasn’t much of a goodbye, their final night together. Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be, but this morning she drank the complimentary tea with lukewarm tap water and stole the amenities on her way out the door. The city was wide and vast, you could reach the tallest point and the expanse of it would continue as far as the eye could see. Last night as they stood above it all she wondered if she was meant to read something into those endless lights. Eventually she decided that she didn’t want to be so self-important. Those lights are the millions of souls, not some message meant for her.

In a city of crowded lights, no-one is so important.

After she left him in the hotel she had a slight moment of regret. She knew that if she let it fester she would feel some type of guilt; she’d rather remember the night than the morning. She couldn’t get back up to the room regardless.

The train swayed side to side, travelling into a setting sun. She stood, collecting her bags as the train pulled into the unfamiliar station. The train was near empty, only her and a family of three on the other side of the car. They talked in hushed voices, respecting the solemn silence of the stationary train. Her bag was heavy, digging into her shoulder as she waited for the door to open. Her bags threatened to drag her down as she stepped past the threshold.

As she stepped off the train and onto the platform, she refused to look back over her shoulder.

A pair of Daruma dolls sit with an empty stare

Twin reminders

Leaves floating in the wind. Still attached to the source. Gods of the second floor.

Outside air drips down through your skin and inside air sucks the vapour from your lungs.

Miles of rice paddies spread between dense forests and shrinking towns. The hum of the engine lulls us to sleep.

Parlour

He can’t help himself, pushing the coins into the slot. He turns the dial, pulls the ball out and checks the contents. It’s the wrong one. He pushes more coins in. He looks to his left, the coin exchange sits so close. It gleams shiny silver, the note slot blinks in hypnotising green. He slides another note in, what’s one more? The missing piece of the set keeps calling to him.

He stumbles over half-done shoelaces to dispose of the empty containers when his hands and pockets get too full. It’s only a couple of metres away but he rushes back, not wanting anyone to steal his machine.

He left his bag of purchases outside with a friend. He absently hopes that she isn’t too bothered, but returns back to the game. Three coins, three twists and a ricochet. The ball thuds and he pushes through to grab it.

Wrong again.

A Stone's Throw

The cold water flows

‘Round the tree-covered hills.

Old stones overlook the show,

A ghost sits tranquil.

The rocks under the bridge stay damp,

Through the journey the seasons take;

Their faces reflect into the camp,

The light shines us awake.

We sit around a fire and warm our hands,

The first of the leaves fall gently down.

We leave the rest of the day unplanned,

And watch as the leaves become browned.

By next morning it’s as though we had never been,

Though some of the dirt has been tracked away.

Other than our shoes it feels like a dream

The beauty of that night and that day.

The Streetlight

The streetlight sits still in a dim blue night

Reaching up to a midnight sky.

Does it look towards the moon

And dream of what it can do?

Does it think about the sun,

How bright its light can be,

Or does it look at the children playing beneath and think

‘This is enough for me,’?

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