Part XI- To spend a day warm on the sand

It can't be true. Can't be real,

Can it?

no. no it can't.

Of course, of course it can't.
so its not then?

right, its not.

Well that's alright then... I guess.
Still doesn't explain the cannon hole.

Remember that cannon that got fired on Kangaroo Island, at that lighthouse?
Yeah, of course, it was so loud...

Happened then, it was an accident.
Oh, right. That makes sense.

-brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-
-brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-

What the hell is that?
- brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-
Giant blowfly?

WHAT! I HATE...
-brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-

Oh wait, just the phone.
Why do I have a phone?

- brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-

And why is it ringing?

- brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-

Why am I not answering it?

- brring brring brrrrrrrrrrrrring-

I stare and stare at it, but it doesn't make it stop.

- brring brring brr-

I pick it up, finally ceasing its senseless dissonance
What am I meant to do with it now?
lick it, obviously.

Yes, thats right. Hang on what?
I turn to ask the Cheshire cat why I'm supposed to lick it, but he just smiles at me.

I turn back to the phone, only to find it has turned into a thorned, creeping vine, twisting its way up my arm.

you cannot stay here

I sit bolt upright, and realise the phone is ringing.

I take a moment to scrutinise it, to ensure it isn't going to choke me again, and lift it to my ear.

Silence, on both ends, as if both parties simply could not think of a thing to say, but were comforted by the others presence none the less.

'Hello?' you whisper tentatively, in a voice so small I didn't think the thing producing it would be big enough to be seen with the naked eye.
'Hello?' I reply, in the voice of a person slowly fading away to invisible.

'It's me'.
'I'm glad'

'...'
'...'

'how are you?'
'...alive'

'that makes two of us'
'I'm glad'

'...is it true, is it true what they say happened?'
'...no,it can't be, not at our school'

'but its all over the TV'
'lies, you know what the media gets like'

'...but...why would they make something like this up?
'...'

'and if they made it up...why does my leg hurt'
'...I dunno'

'i think...i think it must be real'
'...but........really? you really think so?'

'...yeah, i think so...i mean, i don't want to... but...'
'...yeah...i know'

'i should go, the nurses are coming back in.'
'mmmk, maybe ill try to find out where my mum went'

'thats probably a good idea'
'probably'

'hey...i love you'
'yeah, i know.'

'you're meant to say 'I love you too', stupid'
'yeah,i know.'

You do that funny little half laugh thing and I realise you actually did need to hear it.

'just kidding, i love you too.'
'yeah, i know'.
Ears ringing with each others tiny half smiles, we hang up.

And, weirdly enough, I want to hold your hand.

I want to feel your pulse, I want you to feel mine.

I need to find a way to believe that we are still alive, even though...


even though others are not.