Fiction short stories about dreams

Kissing Australia

Page 2

He turned to me, amused, and leaned back precariously on that old steel frame.  “I like to watch the boats come in, I guess.” He answered, his thick Ausie accent coated the air, thrilling me at its unusual commonality.  I folded my arms and walked gingerly towards him, that small crooked smile in my gaze.  “Well that’ not how we talk around here…you are from a different land all together…somewhere much farther than that bridge.”

He smiled, his eyes guarded slightly by the bridge and the shadows of that thick moonless night.  “Do you cook wombat and ride wild kangaroos; dance around fires and play with the great white sharks…or is that all the thinking of naive Tennessee legend?”  He laughed as I now neared him, holding my hand out for a warm and hungry hand shake.  “I’m Desseray…but you can call me Dessy for short.”  He smiled with a slight twinkle in his guarded eyes.  “You can call me Mac.”

A horse rode up suddenly from behind and I looked around to see my friend Trent, looking quite intense at my mid of night stroll.  “Dessy, you out on this bridge for some good reason this late at night?  I hope that man there was attempting to commit suicide and you was here saving his life.”  I looked at Mac with an explanatory wave and a laugh carrying a heavy annoyance under my breath.  “Mac, this is my Doberman of a watch guard friend, Trent.  He likes to always keep me in his abled sight since the day I met him.”

“Desseray, if you weren’t always goin skirtin off  into the middle of no-where…I swear girl, I think I’ve saved your life half a dozen times; at that’s just counting this last year!” Trent said, eyeballing towards Mac’s amused gaze.  “Trent, I swear, you are the most impertinent and annoying fellow…if I weren’t a woman I’d slug you!  Always following me around like you do, I am a grown woman you know!  I can take care of myself…and maybe I should just slug you if that’s what it’ll take to drive the point home to your thick skull!”

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