Page 19

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She wakes to find it’s still nighttime and the VW beetle is parked at something resembling a drive-in carpark. So many cars, their headlights on, doors flung open, the smell of cigarette smoke blanketing the piping hot air. The music of the different cultures - Serbian, Croatian, Greek, Macedonian and Italian collide as they blare out of battery-operated cassette players. Children run around, playing, screaming and laughing by the mighty Murray River in Renmark. Bojana slaps s a mosquito dead on her bare thigh. She wants no part of this. She wants to be back home with her dolls, her toys. The hot steamy night turns into another hot day and the doomsday experience is creating new friendships. The migrant families are sharing cigarettes, sunscreen, food, beer and Coke, playing cards, listening to radio bulletins. Eventually someone tells Stana and Voja the coast is clear, literally. Bojana doesn’t know who Don Dunstan is, but the Premier of South Australia has gone to Glenelg beach to prove the doomsday prediction is nonsense. There are barely any ripples in the water, much less a giant killer tidal wave. About two thousand people, some in flippers, have flocked to the shore to wait with him. So have media from Adelaide, Australia and the world. Bojana does not understand any of this. She just can’t wait to run inside the minute the VW beetle turns into the driveway of their little fibro home. Still standing. On dry land. Only the inside is flooded. From the bathroom tap running for the past two days. Her dolls are floating on the kitchen floor, waiting for Bojana’s return.

84.11 Hearsay  

Our creative writing anthology.

84.11 Hearsay  

Our creative writing anthology.

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