The Best Australian Stories 2014 - Plot & Excerpts
The grown-ups all complain, but I don’t mind much because the mud’s great fun to play in, like quicksand from a Tarzan movie. We chuck all sorts of stuff in to see how fast the mud can swallow it. After the flood, when swirling grey water came up to the verandah and a dead cow floated past, we found a whole box of Hawaiian records washed up in the yard. The ones that still played we gave to Gran; the rest we threw into the mud and watched as they sank under. Sometimes we go mud-walking and before you know it, the mud is over your shorts like a giant’s slobbery mouth sucking hard on your legs, making fart noises. You’ve got to be careful and hang on to the mangrove branches or you could get pulled right under and die. Paper hats droop and stick to our foreheads with sweat as we sit on the verandah eating Christmas lunch. On the telly some old guy is singing carols about snow, but it’s hard to hear the words over the screeching of fruit bats in the mangroves. The grown-ups’ table is set all fancy with matching knives and forks, the best dishes and even serviettes.
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