Posted: June 27, 2011 in #blogjune, Devilish Detail

Tim, at the house, gazed absentmindedly out of the window. The oppressive heat was starting to get to him, he decided, turning his attention back to the slow rotation of the old ceiling fan. The sooner he left this godforsaken place the better. He couldn’t wait to get back to Brisbane. Back to civilisation. Back to airconditioning! He’d only been here for a day, but the relentless clicking of the ceiling fan had only served to increase his blood pressure, he could feel it. He was ever the weak one, he thought. Not like his younger sister Sarah. It was she who had borne the burden of care for their ailing mother. She who had lived there, on the ‘family property’, long after the old dear had lost her mind, long after the endless cycle of droughts, floods and poor government decisions had determined the utter financial ruin of the once prosperous farm. But she had that determined mindset about her that he had never had. That he had admired, and wondered about, and never understood. Maybe they were right – that nurture, rather than nature, was more influential. After all, if he hadn’t been adopted out at birth, and raised in the city, maybe he would have developed a strength of will to rival the sister born almost a decade later, and raised by her birth parents. By his birth parents too. Apparently his mother couldn’t do that ‘to herself’ again, adopting out a child. (No matter what it did ‘to him’!) Nevertheless, Sarah had grit and determination in spades. He could never hope to match it. Perhaps it was due to being raised in such harsh conditions, whereas he had had a relatively easier childhood.

(The beginning of this short story starts here…)


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