100 Words Contribution

Woodford Bay

Ibrahim awoke to the absence of birdsong. Later, it would make sense. By noon, the rumbling began, eventually building to a roar.

His wooden, Ottoman house, stood for over three hundred years, above the two fault lines running beneath Istanbul. Would today see its collapse?

As the floorboards buckled, Ibrahim hastily collected his treasured possessions: his mother Fatme’s embroidered silk carpet, an antique cezve for making Turkish coffee, but most importantly, his Angora cat, Khan…now missing.

Days later, he stood on his porch, wiping his tears. Miraculously, his house was safe and at his feet, was Khan happily purring.

Perihan Bozkurt, Lane Cove

by Joseph Graves, 15 years, Longueville

A mediocre bay buried off the edge of north shore influence, yet stays true to its roots. Energetic young birds chase each other, high and low, as if they are playing their own made-up game for our viewing, weaving, and initiating short, fast turns, almost like they’re the army of the bird world.

Sturdy, strict housing surrounds the bay, capturing the people, leaving it untouched and lonely, isolation has become its new normal. Apart from the occasional visit from a local teenager, who has not yet fallen for the clutches of technology and headless work.

Unique, yet simple sounds can be enjoyed from the bay, the slow, frequent symphonic bells from forgotten boats that haven’t moved in centuries, the forgiving streaks of strong wind that dance in accordance with the water, shaking gumtrees and swaying boats. Purple streaks of jacaranda litter the grass, in a good way, however.

He lived at the bottom of the garden, surviving mostly on what he could scavenge from the fruit and vegetable patch. His favourites were tomatoes, basil and sweet Concord grapes.

Through a sea of emerald green monster leaves, he watched the gardener tending the soil. Occasionally, she would sing to the plants, in a language he couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter, his heart swelled with happiness at the sound.

Springing from his hiding spot, he kneeled before her, presenting a ring fashioned from acorns. Never in a million years, would she have expected a marriage proposal from a garden gnome.

Perihan Bozkurt, Lane Cove

On the outskirts presents a shrub-infested mangrove to the naked eye, but a sanctuary, for whoever cares to look deeper, a whole complex world where crabs and their helpless prey live. This bay used to thrive with people lining up to get a glimpse of the baths, it is long past those days now, it is much more peaceful and special.

Countless eviction notices on boats, rusted onto trees they have grown around, old broken oars buried into the sand, pieces of too-dry paint peeling off tinnies. Losing their colour. So much culture and precious memories were because of the bay, beautiful, mirrored water connects the land to sea, in such an inconsistent manner. Imagine that, a life without inconsistency.

Joseph is a student at Riverview. He was also the drummer in the recent series of Australia Post adverts, known in them as Hunter Boynton! Thank you for sending this into us.

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