October 2016

Arts & Letters

6 × 100

By Paul Connolly
Six stories of 100 words

 

THERAPY

On account of what happened at school, Andy’s mum suggested he see a therapist. The therapist, Annabelle, recommended he keep a journal to help manage his anxiety. “Anxiety? What anxiety?” he said. “Interesting,” she mused. Andy was pleased to have interested Annabelle; she seemed nice. Later, Annabelle yawned, apologising profusely. “A long day. It’s not you.” This pleased Andy, too; interesting and not boring. Afterwards, his waiting father put his arm across Andy’s shoulder. The air outside was cool, the sky apricot. Andy sighed contentedly. “Don’t worry, mate, it’ll all be OK,” his dad said. Worried? Andy thought. Who’s worried?

 

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

Before he’d even finished Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Jared decided to become a Buddhist. And a motorcyclist. He told his family over dinner. Immediately his dad began singing “Everybody was kung fu fighting!”, with his two brothers joining in when they saw Jared was not only perplexed but also annoyed. “What’s kung fu got to do with anything?” he said, but they continued – “… fast as lightning!” – and chopped the air theatrically. When his mum began giggling, he nearly exploded. But he doused his fire and walked away. He was on the path to enlightenment. Unlike those fuckers.

 

SALAD DAYS

Frannie met Jasper at a rally. Nine years her senior, he was strong-jawed, clear-eyed, ethically scrupulous and, he disclosed, soberly, highly sexual. Soon she was hearing his post-coital dissertations on Marxism and cycling, and not minding it one bit. But five years later she’d grown into herself: a witty, flexible, unashamedly whimsical woman ravenous for meat and a car. With aircon. But Jasper was still Jasper. She admired his convictions but, worryingly, every time she saw him sitting straight-backed, diligently chewing his big salads, she had to fight the urge to punch him in the face.

 

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

Slumped on the couch, Wayne looked disapprovingly at the scimitar of gut erupting between his T-shirt and jeans. Ironing, his wife Amanda caught her reflection and was startled by her floppy triceps, exact replicas of her mum’s dreaded bingo wings. Upstairs, young Jai stood shirtless, bending, vigorously, this way and that, looking for evidence of a sixpack. Down the hall, his sister, Kaitlyn, dressing to go out clubbing, self-consciously stuffed tissues inside her bra. Meanwhile, outside, Brutus lay on the grass and licked his testicles as the afternoon sunshine bestowed its warmth and blessing along his fat, hairy flanks.

 

UP, UP AND AWAY

Clutching her daughter, Evie, and hollowed out by impending loss, Marian blamed herself. Her first mistake, 18 years earlier, was putting that world globe lamp in Evie’s room – its warm light drawing the eye, irradiating Earth in an inviting glow. After that, well, where to begin? With Marian’s romanticised re-tellings of her youthful adventures overseas? With the listing yellow towers of National Geographics in the study? With bookshelves brimming with Newbys, Chatwins, Brysons? With a radio hardwired to the BBC World Service? God, she’d all but dragged Evie here, to this ugly departures lounge. What a bloody fool she’d been.

 

DEATHBED REGRETS

The sun blazed through the window of Harriet’s “homelike” suite, engulfing her face, and no one thought to draw the curtains. Not her son, Max, who sat reading in a chair. Not her eldest, Joan, who bickered with her husband on her mobile. Not even her youngest, Tamara, the one she’d almost got right, arranging the beige blanket on Harriet’s bed instead of at least tilting her head away from the infernal light. God knows she couldn’t do it herself. What she’d sacrificed for this lot. Her death imminent, eyes streaming, Harriet wished she’d spent more time at the office.

Paul Connolly

Paul Connolly is a Melbourne-based freelance journalist and author, and is the editor of the essay collection Father Figures.

Cover

October 2016

From the front page

Unpopulation policy

The PM’s efforts are too little too late

‘Exploded View’ by Carrie Tiffany

This new novel is most striking in how it diverges from its predecessors

Illustration

Ben Quilty in bleeding colour

The Australian artist opens up on the eve of a retrospective exhibition

Hatestream

Australia’s Islamophobia problem goes right to the top


In This Issue

Illustration

The mystery of Malcolm Turnbull

What does the prime minister stand for, and when will we find out about it?

Self effacing

‘Mike Parr: Foreign Looking’ brings the anti-institutional artist to the National Gallery of Australia

Illustration

New students

Welcome to the Collingwood English Language School

Please stand

National anthems reflect all the complexities – and oddities – of the countries they represent


More in Arts & Letters

Image of Prime Minister Julia Gillard and Foreign Minister Kevin Rudd, 2010

Rats, heroes and Kevin Rudd’s ‘The PM Years’

This memoir answers some questions about his deposal and return but raises others

Image of Gerald Murnane

Tracking time: Gerald Murnane’s ‘A Season on Earth’

Forty years on, the author’s second novel is reunited with its lost half

Image of Matmos

Clicks, plinks, hoots and thuds: Matmos’s ‘Plastic Anniversary’

The American experimental duo embrace the ‘sounds’ of a ubiquitous material

A French Western? Jacques Audiard on ‘The Sisters Brothers’

The celebrated director explains how he made a Hollywood staple his own


More in Story

Unfinished business: A short story

Can a young wartime couple pick up where they left off?

Alphabet

Sinkers

The Prince of Darkness is a Gentleman


Read on

Image from Hobart’s school strike for climate

The kids are alright

Climate-striking students have every right to protest

Image of Defence Minister Christopher Pyne

The Teflon Kingdom

Saudi Arabia is confident it can buy out the West, and Australia is happy to oblige

Image of Nationals leader Michael McCormack

Instability again threatens the Nationals

What can history tell us about the party’s current strife?

Image from ‘Synonyms’

A showcase of the unexceptional: the 2019 Berlin Film Festival

This year’s offerings did little to arrest the event’s apparent decline


×
×