Two boys sitting by the river, sharing a stout tallie from a paper bag, the late afternoon sun snaking downstream in a thousand foamy particulates. Jonah takes a gulp and sighs from somewhere beyond his body. Colt lifts the bottle from his friend and says, ‘That bad, huh?’ A coxswain barks directives. ‘It’s that good,’ Jonah tells the river. ‘Until now I’ve felt like an understudy for my own life. I knew the lines, blocking, and backstage etiquette, but was always preparing someone else for their break.’ Colt finishes the beer and belches, ‘Man, you’ve always been a star.’
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.