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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Eyes
Waiting
Eye
Bone
Give
Bones
Giving
Throw
Something
Dog
Never
Looked
Like
Huge

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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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You nodded towards the cup. Want more? I shook my head. What about the car? Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you. Towards . . . ? You nodded. So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home. Home? Yeah. Your mouth twitched. Back to me.
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Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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