Margaret Rae
Stories (4)
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Jarli
There were exactly four thousand, nine hundred and thirty-one kilometres between Paraburdoo and Franklin, and Jarli reckoned she had cried at least a hundred tears for every single one of them. Though not as many as she’d cried since she’d lost her adored Dad suddenly to a heart attack nearly six months before. That’s why they were in Franklin; her Mum had family here in Tasmania, and Mum said this is where she needed to be. Somewhere deep within her, Jarli understood that. She had been scared to see the way her Mum had changed since Dad died. Since it was just the two of them now, Jarli sometimes felt the weight of responsibility for making sure Mum was all right. It might be a relief to share that responsibility with someone else. But leaving Paraburdoo! It was her birthplace; it was her Dad’s country; it was everybody and everything she knew.
By Margaret Rae4 years ago in Fiction
Rest Easy
I’m pretty old, dear reader, and it could be said that it has taken an inordinate amount of time for me to embrace some of Life’s Truths, and consequently, begin to live a more peaceful, restful life. To be fair, though, unless you happen to be the Dalai Lama, it seems to take many, many orbits of the sun, gathering and repeating experiences and mistakes along the way, before the message sinks in. And let’s face it, some never get there at all. So in case you’re not the Dalai Lama, I humbly offer the view from where I sit at this point in time, on the eve of a new year.
By Margaret Rae4 years ago in Humans
What People Think
Fresh from the shower, Bronwyn applies a layer of primer to her aging features. She knows one should do this from her research on the Internet. Something about making the make-up last longer. The tube features words like ‘perfecting’, ‘minimising’ and ‘long-lasting’, which she finds mildly comforting.
By Margaret Rae4 years ago in Fiction
