Saturday, July 5, 2008


Nine in the morning, standing on the pavement in Strathfield, talking through the wire fence of a tennis court. New coach, new courts, new plan, far from home and cold. I nod. I smile. I leave. Walking up the road I look in the window of a Korean restaurant, filled with noisy customers sipping breakfast soup. Settling in a cafe I call my husband. I am pessimistic and annoyed, he is optimistic and excited. I return at eleven to talk through that fence again. The new coach says thirteen is the age to decide whether you are serious or not.


bluemountainsmary said...

mmm - not fun on a Saturday morning - from eastern suburbs to Strathfield.

I hope it is worth it!

Anna said...

What an exciting challenging idea - 100 words!
And I can't believe you wrote me a poem... A boy did that when I was 17 but it hasn't happend since. And it wasn't really poetic either. Yours, as always, is. Thank you!

blackbird said...

Husbands are not often on the same wave-length, are they?