CLIVE ANDREW THOMAS

A Touch of Freedom

By Clive Thomas When Cole awoke that morning, he wasn’t expecting anything out of the ordinary. The apartment was the same; compact, shabby, paint peeling from the walls. The grey venetian blinds were still somehow hanging together, concealing the dusty window that gave him some privacy from the apartment block opposite. He dragged himself up, tossing back the doona at a weak attempt to make his bed. Boiling the kettle, he dropped a tea bag in his cup, which was still dirty from the night before. He had run out of detergent and wouldn’t be allowed into the supermarket for another couple of days. Cole scribbled ‘detergent’ on a scrap of paper. Hopefully, there would be some left. So many items were rationed it was ridiculous. But not as ridiculous as the latest laws.