Many writers have shared their thoughts with the public:

"There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they'll take you." - Beatrix Potter

"The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." - Anaïs Nin

"Sharing your writing, being enlarged by others' writing, is what makes you feel famous." - Gretchen Bernabei

"Writing is not an amusing occupation. It is a combination of ditch-digging, mountain-climbing, treadmill and childbirth." - Edna Ferber

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing." - Ben Franklin

"One must be drenched in words, literally soaked in them, to have the right ones to form themselves into the proper pattern at the right moment." - Hart Crane

"There are three rules for writing. Unfortunately, no one can agree what they are." - W. Somerset Maugham

The Virus Thingi

I’ve lost count of the days, the weeks, the months, the years since I‘ve been in lock down. Alone. In a house with a frozen mortgage. And I thought you could only freeze food. Go figure. They can do anything these days. People rang me for a while but that stopped a long time ago just like my clock. That I no longer have batteries for ‘cause I fear to go out the house lest I be hunted down by the dreaded Corona virus. Not to be confused with the beer. Me mate Ted made that mistake and thought he had the virus ‘cause he drank seventy four Coronas a day so took himself off to hospital where they told him he had liver cancer and he was gone within a week. The power of suggestion, hey. I reckon he’d a been safe if he’d a just stayed home and drank more Coronas.

As soon as I heard about the Virus thingi I bought seven hundred and thirty three packets of toilet paper. I would have bought more but that’s all they had. Then I attacked the soup shelves in five different supermarkets and I bought two thousan’ one hudred an’ twenty five packets of beef and veg. I drink one a day and got seventy six left. That means I’ve been in iso for a bit a time now. Yep and I’m starting to get bored. I’ve had a falling out with the walls and the windows have gone cold on me. The doors never did seem to like me much. But me and the doorknobs are good. We still have the odd chat, mindful of the social distancing of course. Doorknobs are said to be highly contagious so we keep our 1.5.

So I took a risk today and I popped my head over the neighbours fence just to say, “Gidday” and “How ya coping with the isolation an’ all.” And only the dog was home an’ someone had dropped off a truckload of bones for him an’ so he was happy. An’ we had a little chat. So then I tried the neighbours on the other side but nobody home an’ someone had dropped off a truckload a bones to their dog too, an’ he was happy. So we had a little chat. Got me to thinkin’ though if the neighbours aren’t home maybe the lockdown's over.

So I put on my perspex face box shield that I made in the early days an’ me packing grade plastic suit that I sewed together a while back, and hit the streets. An’ blow me down the place was over run with kangaroos an’ koalas an’ numbats an’ bilbys and I thought I’d died and gone to David Attenborough heaven. Until I saw the young blackfella up the road, half naked and painted up with a spear pointing right in my direction an’ so I called out “Kaya”. That’s Noongar for hello. I know a bit a Noongar. Well, hello, anyway.

An’ he calls back, “What’s that mate?"

An’ I say “Kaya” again.

An’ he looks at me, puzzled, then breaks into a big grin and calls back, “Oh yeah mate Bob Marley. Cool song.”

Then he calls out, “Ya gotta smoke mate.”

An’ I call back, “Na gave em up 20 years ago.”

An’ he calls, “Maybe I look then in that there house.”

An’ I call back, “Now hang on a bit you can’t just go charging into people's houses and stealing their cigarettes.”

An’ he calls, “But nobody home there.”

An’ I call back, “Well how do you know that?”

An’ he calls back, “Where you been ole man, Covid 19 kill everybody ‘bout 6 year ago but us blackfellas.”

Well that stopped me in me tracks. Me ole legs went all shaky and I had ta sidown right where I was an’ I sunk me head in ma hands an’ I cried like a baby! Ta think I been in isolation these last 6 years for nothin’. An’ then I see that young black fella lookin’ all concerned and puttin’ his spear down an’ comin’ right toward me. An’ when he gets here he puts his hand right on my shoulder an’ I say, “Why,” but before I can say “…. didn’t anyone tell me,” he says “Karma.”

Then he looks at me an’ he says,“You be right mate. You come an’ live with us blackfellas. We look after ya good.”