To his alarm, great purple hammocks hung
beneath his eyes, sore to the morning sun.
Wrestling house keys to the car, it had stung
to jog, spurred by the memory that he’d done
mere nothing of the work his boss had sprung
upon him two weeks back… too much among
other tasks, and paralysis of function. Dear,
the consequence was glooming rather near.
Assuredly, this dishevelled Monday served
a frozen windshield, and a cold coffee left
on the dash. Leaving bed took bitter nerve.
Attempted corporate “good mornings”, bereft
of slight sincerity, he clearly incurred
bad feedback. The mood was set. His inept
attempt to pitch the brief left clients confused
and his ex-girlfriend / co-worker bemused.
With book and bag and binder under arm,
shoes were thrown from heels, energy blown, short
fused, he discovered the kitchen with alarm.
The kitchen was clean, wasn’t it? Nor wrought
with mess such as this? This crime scene, this harm:
slick with grime, clogged and stinking, roommate naught
To be seen- you. Get here now! You swine!
I was confused. Sorry. Those dishes are mine.
Adrienne is in her third year studying a Bachelor of Arts (Writing and English Literature) at UOW. She moved to the Illawarra from the Central West to develop her skills as a writer and textiles artist. She writes short fiction pieces for the Tertangala in poetry and prose form. Her work is underlaid with a witty commentary on the shared experiences of the pandemic, student life and moving from home. Using threads of these common themes, she aims to weave connections across environments and communities.