Five Sentence Fiction- Limitless

Four years ago I wrote this story.

I re-read it today….it was just what I needed.


Word Prompt- Limitless

Finally after months of torment in the school playground she had developed a tactic to cope with the bullying.

All the name calling, poking and prodding could not harm her once she found a quiet spot, closed her eyes and focused on her breath.

She had learned that the act of turning her attention inward soothed her, calmed her…the gentle inhale, the long exhale, was ever-present, a certainty in an otherwise unpredictable environment.

Whilst the hurt and suffering caused by the school yard bullies was still present, the act of focusing on her breath took the sting out of it.

Whilst in this quiet space she found peace within, the practice allowing belief to form that the name callers could not shape her destiny, her options in life where limitless!

My Island Home

Yesterday morning I felt compelled to write a blog post. But as I tried to come up with an angle for a story, scanned the week that was, and those that lay ahead, I deemed nothing noteworthy.

Yet I knew that if I just left my apartment, peeled myself of the couch and actively engaged in the world outside, I’d be bombarded with ideas and inspiration.

Not till 1.57pm did I emerge from my self-imposed cocoon and brave the afternoon. And as I put one foot in front on the other, traversing along the foot path with fellow members of the human race, the story I had wanted to write earlier that day appeared.

As I crossed Abercrombie street, and entering the Block, Redfern, music filled the air. I was drawn to it, and rather than heading straight down Eveliegh  Street, I crossed the road towards the community centre.

The sweet melody that filled the air was by Christine And ‘ My Island Home’ and I slowed down my walking pace, so that I could enjoy the entirety of the tune. The sun shone and I stood transfixed by the lyrics. They were not lost on me, nor the significance of the suburb in which I stood.

This is the type of story that does not have an ending, the narrative continues.

Though confroning, I’m thankful that I stepped outside yesterday and got to witness first hand community issues that are ever present. Stories are everywhere, you just have to step outside yourself to notice.



















Hernandez Coffee Shop, Kings Cross


2009 visit to Hernandez with Lisa

A week-long staycation in Sydney comes to an end.

A beauty of a week, winter sunshine, yoga, time by the sea and the company of cherished friends.

A week to indulge in all things I love about city living….and so a visit to Hernandez Coffee Shop, Kings Cross. Atmosphere alone, this place is a winner.

It has not been hipsterfied, not a beard or moustache in site, drinks served in coffee cups, not jam jars. A long black is a long black, not a dirty chai latte with a side of nut butter and a butterfly.

Coffee straight up, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

It is iconically Sydney and rightly so – it remains timeless, may it never change.

On this visit I asked for a Vienna Coffee ( long black with whipped cream – I was on holidays after all!) but was informed the cream order had not come in that day.

So I offered a Bon Bon ( sweetened condensed milk, coffee shot topped with frothed mild) – a drink common to the cafe owner’s native home of Spain.

I deliberated over this for some time, then opted for a long black.

To my surprise a complimentary Bon Bon arrived, baby chino size, with my coffee order.

It hit the spot, sugary and sweet. I buzzed out of the coffee  shop, two coffees under my belt and onto my favourite op shop.

A staycation in Sydney should always include a coffee at Hernandez Coffee Shop, Kings Cross, but why stop at one! Timeless, iconically Sydney – may it never change.


Who would have thought?



If you’d asked me six months ago were my focus would be in regards to work as an internship coordinator, sport management placements would have featured way down  the list.

I’m not a sports fan, I openly admit that, very un- Australian of me!

I’ve been dragged along to the occasional Sydney Swans game, feigning interest…but deep down, as my friends scream, yell, stamp and cheer in the direction of Buddy Franklin, I’m daydreaming of my next beach holiday. I just don’t get it. 

Yet I admire the passion and dedication of sports fans. I’m actually envious of it.

Sport can be a guiding force in life, defining weekend activities, entire Saturdays can be taken up by game day. It bonds people, barracking for the same team means you become part of a something bigger than yourself. Take the AFL,  for 6 months of each year you are busy being a fan. I’m just cold and miserable, wanting summer to return.

I find that sport fans are driven and determined, loyal and optimistic. A girlfriend of mine, travelled from Brisbane to Sydney for the Rabbitohs NRL grand final win against the Bulldogs. ‘ Born a Bunny’ back in 1977, a true believer, she witnessed the historic win that night, and revelled with the Redfern community the day after. A true fan, of the A to Z variety. All codes, all disciplines. Passionately, hopelessly mad about sport. The end.

Possessing none of the above, a focus on sports management internships have pushed me out of my comfort zone and into an iron man race against time to secure countless opportunities for sports mad interns.

Think Canterbury Bulldogs, South Sydney Rabbitohs, Illawarra Dragon, Parramatta Eels.

Think Invictus Games ( Prince Harry, oh la la!!) Football Australia and Athletics NSW.

And surprisingly , I’m loving every minute of it!! The in-person meetings, the phone calls, the emails. Endless conversations about sport.

And each time a site agrees to host an intern, it’s like scoring a grand final goal or world record at the Olympics.

Perhaps I do possess the qualities of an sports fan after all – tenacity, grit & steely determination. It’s what I’ve needed in spades as I’ve navigated my way into the unchartered world of all disciplines, all codes.  

Whether I win or loose as I slam dunk, sprint and peddle my way to my target, I’ve come to view journey as the grounds for personal growth and learning. 

It is challenging, fun and I’m constantly learning – what more could I ask for other than an interest in sport??!!


Arcade Fire


Friendship Fire starter: something that promotes friendship, encourages a catch up or strengthens a bond between two or more people.

It has been a while since I have added to the collections of blog posts I term ‘ friendship fire starters’. But as I watched my niece dance in her car seat to pop music, I silently declared to myself that I would take responsibility for her musical education. And then this story surfaced. But before I get to that, to Ms R, prepare to be wowed by the voice of Whitney, the moves of MJ and the poetry of the Man in Black, Mr Johnny Cash.

My own musical education is questionable. I have written about it before. I have long been a fan of the humble boy band, and when I found myself living in the UK as a  22-year-old, I was in heaven.

The Australian Music scene had always taken itself too seriously for my liking, and whilst I was a fan of the rock, grunge and alternative music, I looked further afield for my pop stars. The UK was a melting pot of awesomeness in that department, think BoyZone, Westlife, a solo Robbie Williams, a solo Ronan Keating.

And then there was the Latin movement that took hold, Enrique Iglesias, Ricky Martin…. It is fair to say that between the ages of 22 and 24, whilst living abroad, I was lost to Pop.

This rather angered, indeed infuriated a young man I came flat with in Edinburgh. How this Aussie bloke and I remain friends today is a modern mystery. Music was his world. I termed him the ‘ repressed rocker’: he was forever playing an imaginary drum set, curly mop of hair thrashing about, beatbox sound effects released at random.

He was passionate, rather obsessive about music and I admit, I admired him for it.

My taste in music he despised – and he made that very , very clear.

Not one to be deterred – I continued to play BoyZone, Westlife and Enrique at every opportunity.

Fast forward 5 years, and I am back home, living and working in Sydney. I recieved a call, out of the blue from the repressed rocker, he has a spare ticket to a band held in the highest of regard : Arcade Fire.

‘ I’ve never heard of them’ I whimpered down the phone ‘ Are they like Enrique Iglesias or Westlife??’


‘ Enrique or Westlife?’ I ask again, thinking hadn’t heard me the first time.

‘ Your not coming’

Dial tone – he has hung up on me!!

I am left puzzled – who is this majestic band I have been deemed unworthy of watching? Why has my penchant for pop cost me so dearly? Arcade who?

Hurt and confused I refuse to torture myself. I put in my headphones , resuming the data entry whilst listening to Enrique

And this evening, whilst watching youtube videos I see that Arcade Fire have just released a new album. This band I did go on to discover, in my own time, in 2013, on a holiday in the UK. It was love at first listen. The song ‘ Sprawl II ( Mountains Beyond Mountains’ was my self-declared moving song when packing up my Randwick Flat in 2014. The tune channelled the courage required to  immerse myself in shared living again.

So Mr Repressed Rocker, did you know that Arcade Fire has new material out? Am I finally ahead of the game?

What I expect you’ll say is that they are no longer cool, and that you have moved on.

What I want you to say is that you like their new music.

Most importantly what I need to say is thank you for introducing me to this exquisite music by default all those years ago.






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