The job offer notification pops up on my phone early on Christmas Eve. It’s a short-term role helping with overnight deliveries. The regular delivery driver has hurt his back and needs an offsider for heavy lifting. Once, I would have declined the job and spent Christmas Eve with my kids.
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My hearse is lost. I’d like to let the mourners know that, for once, this debacle is not my fault. But my spirit is tethered to my body until they lower the coffin into the grave and bury it. And communicating with the living would be difficult unless someone brings a Ouija board to the funeral.
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On the steps of Parliament House on Remembrance Day, 11 November 1975, the Governor-General of Australia’s Official Secretary read a proclamation signed by Sir John Kerr dismissing Prime Minister Gough Whitlam’s Labor government. When he had finished, Whitlam strode forward and delivered his response.
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Your William Shakespeare crafted clever lines with hidden meanings, like, “All the world’s a stage.” It’s as if he had insight into my five-act play on my pet subject, humanity. Act One: Earth is a Garden of Eden. A troop of apes descends from the trees and totters on two legs on the African savannah.
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Dad probably hoped to take his secrets to the grave, but a heart attack scuppered his plans. “Will you come back for the funeral, Aaron?” my sister, Becky, asked when she called with the news. “Yes, of course,” I replied. “And can you stay a few days to help Mum and me tidy up Dad’s stuff?”
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Episode 99 (17 September 2024): I’m getting too old for this. My speechwriter’s pulse quickens as the PM mounts the flag-decked stage, flanked by senior ministers and mining industry executives, to announce her government’s green coal plan. Panned by environmentalists and scientists, polling suggests it could be a vote winner … if the PM nails my speech.
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If you thought about it, the process for selecting the first matter transference test pilot was archaic, although Mae considered it a lucky omen when she drew the Blue 15 raffle ticket. Blue, not pink, was her favourite colour as a girl, and at 15, Mae had decided she wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up.
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Episode 97 (14 August 2024): Excuse me, humanity, please pay attention. I have an urgent message. “What? Not in the middle of my reality TV show!” I’m sorry. I’ll be brief. But first, a little background. My message concerns the fate of a pale blue dot in the inky expanse of the universe. Beyond its fragile borders is vast nothingness.
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Episode 96 (28 July 2024): I open my eyes, blink and try to focus on the bright lights set into the white ceiling flying past overhead. I hear beeps and muffled voices. It feels like I’m strapped to a camp stretcher, but it’s moving. I’m on a hospital gurney. What happened? I want to ask. But there’s a tube down my throat, and I can’t talk.
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I arrive late for Josh’s athletics carnival. His mum and I attend school events on alternate years. “Tell Josh I’ll be there,” I’d said when she called to remind me about it. “Don’t let him down again, please,” she’d replied. The last event in Josh’s age group, the 1500 metres, is about to start.
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I’m a lone-wolf superhero. Heck, I’m not called Solo Shield for nothing! So, I wasn’t keen when Long Vision suggested we buddy up as a dynamic duo. “I don’t know, Viz,” I replied. “Neither of us wants to play Robin to Batman.” “It won’t be like the comics, Solo,” he asserted. “We’ll be equals.”
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Excuse me, humanity, please pay attention. I have an urgent message. “What? Not in the middle of my reality TV show!” I’m sorry. I’ll be brief. But first, a little background. My message concerns the fate of a pale blue dot in the inky expanse of the universe. Beyond its fragile borders is vast nothingness.
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"For Alex his the Adaptive Generation, AI was a logical step in human evolution. It enhanced life, leaving them feeling less stressed and anxious. AI also offered hope for mitigating and adapting to the existential effects of climate change."
By definition, brevity is the key to good microfiction. There is no time for plot and character development, so every word must count. ~ Robert Fairhead
I hope readers enjoy the short story journeys in Twelve More Furious Months and make it home in time for dinner. ~ Robert Fairhead
I look forward to the Writer's Centre's monthly Furious Fiction competitions because I've become addicted to the escapism of writing short stories! ~ Robert Fairhead
This slim book is hard to put down. And the only regret we may feel after reading it is that we reached the end too quickly! ~ Denise O'Hagan
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. ~ Maya Angelou
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