Source: “The Dream” by Gabby (aged 13)
When the pigs were in their sty playing in the mud they found a cassowary feather and one pig ate it and suddenly forty-nine more feathers fell on them and forty-nine pigs ate one each and all turn…
On the day the circus came to Bundaberg Fred Fredrickson was training to be an electrician when he saw the poster of someone training a lion. As he was a very brave man, he decided he wanted to have that job so he went to the circus and asked if he could be a lion tamer too. They said “Yes, but you have to train for a long time because you have to be ready for anything the lion would do, like try to bite you.” Next month, Fred amazed everyone by riding the biggest, the baddest, and the bravest lion ever. On the day the circus left Bundaberg, Fred went with them.
Dardo (aged 9)
The Children in Extramile Tuition at Ferny Hills are locked in a fierce short story writing competition. The winner wins a HUGE trophy. Help Angus but liking and reblogging. He’ll be very very happy … not unlike his Indian crew, chowing down on chicken in Sumatra
One night a Chinese war ship was in the South China Sea when suddenly an Indian War ship appeared. The Chinese war ship had big guns on the front and back. The Chinese war ship fired first and the Indian war ship retaliated. The Indian war ship then turned around and left because it was super time. That night the Indian crew ate chicken in Sumatra.
Angus (aged 11)
So far in Embraceable You. Josefine Hanrahan, the neglected daughter of mining tycoon St John Hanrahan, has escaped from her boarding school to play her saxophone in the mist garden beside the National Art Gallery. There she will connect spiritually with her mother Liv, who died when Josefine was six years old.
The sound filled the mist laden space inside the Canberra garden with a smooth, mellow, honey-wine moan. With her eyes closed she imagined herself back in on the Jutland Peninsula in the blue sitting room of her grandparents’ small white house, with a frozen waterway just outside, glittering and brittle in the thin light. Her mother was reclining on the sofa just across the white shag pile carpet and every now and then the soft scuffing at the door indicated that Mormor Axelsen had crept stealthily past, looking in at the two of them, as they blended together into a precious memory wrapped in the cadence of Embraceable You.
“I’ll be hugging you whenever you play it. Wherever you are, you’ll know I’m watching you and loving embraceable you.”
Josefine was not drawn out of her memory by the occasional scuffing sounds, as tourists, visiting the lovely misted space, made the round white pebbles tinkle in sharp vibrations. There was an agreed quietness whenever she played there and she was grateful for the thoughtfulness of strangers. It was kind of them to hush, to let the girl play. Their unseen presence, outside the pink-veined membrane of her closed eyelids, somehow added to her sense of spiritual reconnection with Liv.
“Love’s the only thing that matters,” she whispered to herself.
“That’s it, Princess. Don’t you ever forget. My sweet Embraceable You.”
Liv’s reply seemed so real it was hard to believe she wasn’t there. Her mother would have been sad, but unsurprised, that her daughter made no friends at school. She would have understood and been lovingly reassuring as her awkward girl grew into a mismatch of features that had not blended. It had been the same way for her, Liv insisted. It was hard to believe that her mother had been an ugly duckling as a teenager but even smiling Mormor Axelsen had nodded and agreed that it was so.
“Your mother’s mouth and legs grew like topsy but then, when she was seventeen or eighteen, it all stopped and the rest of her caught up and look what a beauty she is now. My lovely swan emerged in all her glory.”
She’d always be looking at the portrait of Liv on the wall when she said it for the pale sick version of Liv was not the swan she was talking about.
So far in Embraceable You ….
School girl Josefine Hanrahan has been a boarder at Our Lady of Dolores for most of her childhood. Today is her eighteenth birthday but it’s a lonely birthday. Josefine finds it difficult to make friends and the other girls don’t like her. Her father is Australia’s richest man but he’s a lousy father. Today, Josefine is going to break free …
“I want you to remember that love’s the only thing that matters. Will you do that for me, Baby?”
So blue, her mother’s eyes were, even when the rest of her faded.
“I’ll remember Mummy.”
“Say it for me, baby girl.”
After Liv died, taking longer than St John had budgeted for, her father made the trip himself to fetch his daughter back. She must have made a sad little bundle with Mormor’s small cardboard suitcase and a battered leather saxophone case – all arms and legs and bewilderment. As she’d been expecting an envoy, Josefine briefly thought that his arrival was a sign of love for his only child. It was a fleeting delusion. She read in the in-flight newspaper that it was the only way that the Danish authorities would agree to her leaving the country. Liv Axelsen’s daughter had dual citizenship and her maternal grandparents had contested their son-in-law’s demand that they return his off-spring, so he had to come to collect her himself. How annoyed he must have been to be forced to take his eyes off managing every little thing in the conglomerate that was Hanrahan Iron!
A couple of years later, she checked the business pages for December that year and found an article which confirmed that the company’s share price dropped one percent during the week that St John was fetching back the inconvenient child. Extrapolating from the information, she calculated that JosefineKarla Hanrahan was worth over five hundred million dollars a week when she was just eight and a half years old. She wondered if, like a good wine, her market value might even improve with age.
“Happy birthday Josefine,” the senior year school girl murmured to herself as she bundled up her golden saxophone and set out from Our Lady’s gated grounds.
The bodyguards her father paid to protect her should have known she would creep out through this path, but she’d scanned with an expert eye and she couldn’t see them. The walk along the lake from the school was cold and crisp and she could feel the frosted grass snapping under her feet.
In the sculpture garden, the automatic timers had not yet turned on the misters, so the central sculpture was just rusty metal strips, evoking the impression of a ship hull sallying forth amidst waves of soft fern tendrils. Josefine nestled into the pebbles on the ground. They were cold under the thick fabric of her heavy overcoat and her saxophone was icy to touch as she slipped the pieces together. She closed her eyes as she placed the mouthpiece between her lips. It was only because her torso she was so elongated that she could sit on the ground and play without the saxophone bumping onto the pebbles. There was one advantage to being freakishly tall.
“Happy birthday Josefine,’ she whispered to herself as she began to play.