Sam s YearChapter 6 To William Creek to Marree
- 1 year ago
- 35
- 0
Sam's YearChapter 7: Marree And Kati Thanda free porn video
Sam stood in the lobby reading the announcements and business card that had been posted. The one from Wrightsair (“The spirit of the outback”) caught his eye. He walked over to the desk.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes?”
Does Wrightsair ever land here?”
“Sure. Atta ‘port. Fifteen minnit walk. Folks get ‘em to do a flyin’ tour o’ the lake. ‘Specially when it’s full or empty.”
“Thank you.” He left to meet Tessa.
She was waiting for him.
“Waiting long?”
“Not at all.”
“I have an idea.”
“That’s good. Perhaps, in time, you can have more of them. Eventually, they won’t be painful.” She laughed.
“You are cruel.”
“No. I am a crow/raven and a jokester.”
“And I am being too serious.”
“Perhaps. Tell me your idea.”
“Can you take a day off?”
“Anytime. There is an answerphone. And there isn’t any filing to be done.”
“I saw a notice from Wrightsair. I’d like to explore Kati Thanda from the air. Would you like to come with me?” They were standing near one of the old locomotives at the abandoned station.
“Is this Bunjil, asking to take me into the sky?”
“Yes. In a sense, it is.”
“Do you have enough dosh?”
“My dad told me I wasn’t spending enough. Surely a gin could help me.”
“That’s cruel. I’m not a bit of muslin on the shelf.” [a spinster]
“No. Not at all. Forgive me.”
“I do. But isn’t this big bickies? Can you afford it?”
“It’s a very long story, but yes. Someday, you’ll learn it all.”
“Then yes. Either tomorrow or Friday.”
They went into the hotel and Sam phoned Wrightsair.
“Hi. I’m at the Marree Hotel. I was wondering whether I could get a tour of Kati Thanda from the air either tomorrow or Friday ... Two of us ... That’s all? ... Oh, an extra hour ... Fine. The name’s Hollister and my bank card number is ... We’ll be at the field by 10:30, then. A Cessna 172? Fine. Thanks.”
“Tomorrow. 10:30. I think a 172 is a four-seater.”
“That fast! That easily!”
“After only two days, I wish I could do anything and everything for you like that.”
The Great Ancestor Spirit, Bunjil, began to create the world we see around us; the mountains, the lakes, the forests and the rivers, the plains and the seas. He created all the plants and all the animals.
He had two wives, who were black swans. When he had created the beautiful sandstone ranges of Gariwerd, he often took the form of the Eagle so that he could view his work. He looked over the mountains; he listened to the sound of water, dripping after rain and thundering over waterfalls; he watched the plants and animals grow from moss and tiny blades of grass to sturdy gums.
Bunjil asked Crow, who had charge of the winds, to open his bags and let out some wind. Crow opened a bag in which he kept his whirlwinds, creating a cyclone which uprooted trees. Bunjil asked for a stronger wind. Crow complied, and Bunjil and his people were blown upwards into the sky.
Bunjil had a special place. From there he could look out over the ranges. Bunjil appointed two brothers, the sons of Druk the Frog, to finish the task he had set himself. Their job was to bring order to the new world; to name the animals and creatures, to make the languages and give the laws. At the end of his time on earth, Bunjil rose into the sky and became a star, Altair, his wives became the stars on either side.
“So ... am I a black swan?”
“Not yet. But you told me you were a Raven, a black bird...”
“But not the ‘black bird’ in The Maltese Falcon.”
“Aha! A cinema fan!”
“That’s what we did in the student residence: watch black and white movies on the telly.”
“Do you read, too?”
“Yes. But not what people think I should read. I love Jane Austen and Muriel Spark. But I never got into Patrick White. I like some of the Americans, though. Salinger and Roth. And Trollope, too. Especially the Parliamentary novels! And the Irish playwrights -- Synge and Shaw and Wilde and Behan and Becket!”
“I’ve only read a bit of those. We had to read a lot of Shakespeare and Scott and Dickens in school. My granddad reads a lot. Everything, it seems.”
“I never knew my grandparents.”
“I can’t recall my dad’s mum. She died. My sister’s named after her: Weena.”
“I’ve always wanted a sibling.”
“My sis’s just twelve. She’s OK. My dad’s got a sister. My aunt Sarah. She lives in Adelaide. They’ve got a kid, too. So I’m an uncle. My mom’s got a brother. He’s an abstract mathematician. He’s someplace in Germany for the past year or so.”
Tessa looked pensive. “What about Sarah’s husband?”
“Oh! My uncle Henry! He’s an ethnic Hawaiian. He’s two meters tall and must weigh well-over a hundred kilos. And he’s got tattoos. He’s got a Ph.D. In Polynesian archaeology and works at the museum in Adelaide. Before that he sort of worked for my granddad.”
“That sounds like a story.”
“Everything’s a story. Let’s go eat.”
After dinner, Tessa asked: “Do you think I’m attractive?”
“I think you’re stunning and ... and...”
“Then why haven’t you tried anything. The boys at school all tried to hit on me.”
“I’m not one of the boys at school. I’m trying to come to grips with my desires and our ages.”
“Oh.”
“Tessa, any man would want to make love to a beautiful young woman like you. But I know I need to wait for you to be ready – not every male has to push you onto the ground and force you.”
“Kiss me.” He leaned over a did so. “Again, and harder.”
Sam turned a bit, took her shoulders in his hands and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue into her part-open mouth.
After more than a few seconds Tessa said. “Yes. That’s what I was hoping for. I am hoping for more.”
“As am I. As am I.”
They kissed and embraced for a while.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Meet me a bit before ten?”
“Of course. We’ll have to walk to the airport.”
Sam walked her home and went back to the hotel. Perhaps Bunjil flew him back to the hotel.
“I’m really excited about this,” he said when they met. “I’ve been looking at pictures of Kati Thanda for over ten years.”
“Tell me.”
“In 2016, The Light Collective, a group of photographers, published a volume of photos of the lake taken from airplanes. There was a show that my mum took me to. And she got the book and we’ve got it at home. It’s dry now. But there was drought in 2002; and in 2016 there hadn’t been real rain since 2010. By 2018 it was drought in both Queensland and NSW.” He paused. They both heard the approaching monoplane.
Dottie
- 03.05.2020
- 31
- 0
Sams 1000 Island River Run
- 3 years ago
- 30
- 0
Sam s YearChapter 5 To William Creek to Marree
- 3 years ago
- 26
- 0
