He’s standing on the kerb waiting for her. He looks to his left when he hears the regular pounding of someone’s feet approaching from the corner street. He turns around but doesn’t think she’ll arrive from the side street as they don't ever go there. It won’t be her, he shrugs. Yet he glances again, someone, with a hair bun just like hers, is running. He opens his mouth, but she’s raced past him and stepped off the pavement. Is she about to fall? No, instead she follows a man onto the bus. The blue bus becomes distant and blurred.
Une attente poignante
Debout sur le trottoir, il l’attend. Il regarde à gauche lorsqu’il entend venant de la petite rue de côté le son régulier de pieds qui frappent sur le trottoir. Il se retourne mais ne pense pas qu’elle vienne de cette ruelle car ils ne vont jamais là. Il hausse les épaules, ce ne sera pas elle. Mais il jette un autre coup d’œil, quelqu’un avec un petit chignon comme le sien, arrive en courant. Il ouvre la bouche mais elle passe très vite devant lui et descend du trottoir. Va-t-elle tomber ? Non, c’est plutôt qu’elle a suivi un homme dans l’autobus. L’autobus bleu devient distant et flou.
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Published by Yayi-Australie
I am a French-born Australian linguist who loves writing about multicultural experiences. Taught English in Zambia and Papua New Guinea, gained a Doctorate with UPNG. In Western Australia I worked with migrants and Indigenous communities in Kalgoorlie and Roebourne. In charge of Amnesty International WA, then moved to Adelaide. Short-listed by The Human Rights Commission for the Literature NF Award for the anthology I edited with the Multicultural Writers Association of Australia, I later published my memoir. Volunteered with the Writers Centre, became active with PEN.
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