Captivating - OMR (One Minute Reads) Stories Read online

was the straw which broke the camels back. I took my last drink on the 13th January 1977 and alcohol hasn’t passed my lips since.

  If I hadn’t taken action at this point I dread to imagine how my life would’ve turned out. Throughout the following years, although I didn’t drink alcohol my behaviour displayed many times of ‘being a dry drunk’.

  Twenty years after I took my last drink of alcohol, with my wife’s help, I discovered I needed to solve this issue of ‘alcoholism’ once and for all. Over a twelve month period, my wife helped me re-discover myself and moreso, drilled into my subconscious mind the importance of being honest and straight forward with people, instead of manipulation with other people’s lives.

  She was by my side when I suffered a heart condition and needed to have a pacemaker operation. She was by my side when important decisions needed to be made about family issues.

  I was by her side when she discovered her fight with cancer was overbearing and future unknown. In fact, I never left her side throughout the total period she suffered. I felt her pain with her resilience and courage, she fought this disease which fight she finally lost.

  My belief now is she protects me from myself of falling back to those old habits I once endured. She continues to walk beside me and many times I talk with her in my dreams.

  At times I wish I could’ve had a magic wand to help her through the pain and suffering she endured; I didn’t have a magic wand only being there for her until the final moment. Like I said – I miss her but know she doesn’t suffer any longer.

  Word count: 429

  Agenda 21

  ‘Aren’t you aware of Agenda 21?’ The Prime Minister asked his Foreign Minister.

  ‘No! I don’t – we only got into government the last couple of months I’ve no time to scratch myself. What with the boat people and other issues we promise to change.’ He replied.

  ‘I’ll tell you a little about Agenda 21.’The Prime Minister said with a strange look on his face.

  ‘Can’t wait for this one,’ he smirked.

  ‘In 1992, in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, at the United Nations Conference, Agenda 21 became an action plan with regard to sustainable development.’ The Prime Minister explained.

  ‘So what – what’s this got to do with us?’

  ‘You aware of the Earth Summit Agenda 21 report – 21 refer to the 21st century?’ The Prime Minister further explained. Why this fellow doesn’t understand Agenda 21, I’ll never know. Everyone in government should have knowledge about Agenda 21 particularly my ministers, he thought.

  ‘Okay – where do I find this report?’ The Minister asked showing his interest at last.

  ‘I’ll arrange the document to be in your office, contains three hundred pages. This report contains everything. Read the report before tomorrow afternoon when you fly to their annual conference in Rio de Janeiro.’ The Prime Minister explained.

  ‘Can’t one of my staff read the report?’ He asked.

  ‘No – you’re representing our country at the conference and I want your words to come from your mouth, not some bureaucrat thinking what’s right for this country. Do you understand?’ The Prime Minister expressed in a stern command.

  ‘Okay – I’ll read this three hundred page report and represent our country as if you were attending. Why aren’t you attending may I ask?’ The Minister replied.

  ‘Too many things to take care of here at home, like cycling, swimming, saving lives, everything else I do to keep our country going, and now my Treasurer wants to increase our debt to half a trillion dollars. We’ll end up like the yanks and can’t repay our bills. Can I leave Agenda 21 safely in your hands to handle?’ The Prime Minister asked in a soft and reassuring voice.

  ‘Yes Mr Prime Minister. I will do my best to represent you at this conference. Thank you for having faith in me.’ The Minister replied in a solemn and honest voice.

  ‘Don’t let our country down, please. Your country depends on you to deliver your knowledge of Agenda 21.’The Prime Minister said and walked away.

  Word count: 409

  Aussie Outback

  Last Saturday the television programme ‘Queenslander’ viewed on channel 7. Their topic for the show ‘Birdsville Races’ held at remote country town Birdsville near the borders of Queensland and South Australia.

  In 1996 I attended this great race travelled by coach from Brisbane to Birdsville, then onto Longreach via Roma, Toowoomba and home. Once we departed Brisbane our first night a camp ground at Charleville. I remember the cold night air; we camped in a two person tent with sleeping bags on a thin mattress provided by the travel company.

  Next morning after a hearty breakfast, we journeyed onto Quilpie. This town is in the heart of opal country. Our departure from Quilpie to Birdsville took the remainder of the day arriving near sundown.

  Three days of celebration at Birdsville where we camped in the only caravan park with almost two thousand other racing enthusiasts. Birdsville normally has a population of sixty people when over the racing period the town swells to six thousand with people travelling from all parts of our country.

  Again after a hearty breakfast our tour bus driver took us to ‘Big Red’ the highest sand hill in Australia. Many others from Birdsville joined us to witness this enormous icon.

  After our time at ‘Big Red’ we visited the local cemetery. Why do tourists love visiting cemeteries in country towns? Probably to identify what I wanted of the town’s history. You can learn much about a town from their cemetery.

  Next day we went to the races. About ten kilometres east of Birdsville a racetrack and once a year ‘The Birdsville Cup’ raced and won by the best horse in the field. This particular year was no different to any other year. I fortunately knew a trainer naturally I wagered his horse and won.

  After celebrating ‘Birdsville Races Ball’ on the night when each male wore a tie. Next morning we packed up our tour bus and headed to Longreach stopping along the way at Boulia reaching Longreach later that evening.

  Longreach has the Stockman’s Hall Of Fame which we visited the following morning. Country people are the salt of the earth when it comes to their giving. A bush poet entertained us on the evening we reached Longreach where we camped at the local caravan park.

  On our return to Brisbane we travelled through country towns like Roma, Dalby, and Toowoomba returning to Brisbane on our tenth day. Although it’s been seventeen years since we did this tour each memory is encased in my mind of witnessing our Aussie Outback.

  Word count: 430

  Bad Hair Day

  ‘What’d mean – you’re having a bad hair day?’ Jack asked Melinda the office girl he employed twelve months before, ‘what’s a bad hair day. What’s the matter with your hair?’ He questioned. Her hair appeared no different to any other day, he thought.

  Melinda worked hard at doing her job as a dog’s body to her boss. She admired him for his business acumen and aptitude on being a successful business person. She was extremely pleased working with Jack or moreso Mr Robinson, she called him by, but today was her ‘bad hair day’ and wanted her hair fixed.

  ‘Melinda, how can I help you overcome your ‘bad hair day’. Your hair appears fine to me, how I can help you.’ He expressed in a kind and compassionate voice.

  ‘I need a couple of hours off to visit my hairdresser so my hair can be fixed.’ She asked in a low whisper.

  ‘What – you want time off to fix your hair?’ Jack exploded. What’s the world coming to if we to give employees time off to get their hair fixed because they’re having a ‘bad hair day’ – they want a day off each month when their times comes to feeling ill because of some woman problem and now their hair – what next, time off for shopping. He thought.

  ‘I’ll only be gone for a couple of hours, Mr Robinson, please.’ She pleaded.

  ‘I’m sorry you’re having a ‘bad hair day’ – you’re not having time off because of your hair. Do you have any other problem I can help you with?’ His answer tipped sar
casm.

  ‘No Sir, I’ll get back to my work.’ Melinda wanted to tell him the truth about her boyfriend of eight years dumped her the previous night because he’d found another female to warm his bed. She wanted to cry on his shoulder, pour out her grievances of how her boyfriend cheated on her with another woman.

  If she was allowed to go to the hairdresser, Diana would listen to her story and counsel her with advise to ‘get her through’ this ordeal. No – she needed to pull herself together and work through her feelings of betrayal and get on with her life. She can have another ‘bad hair day’ some other time but until then she needs to concentrate on her work. Mr Robinson was right – a ‘bad hair day’ indeed.

  Word count: 401

  Black & White

  ‘Was television invented when you were my age?’ Sam, 13 year old grandson asked his grandfather.

  ‘Yes, I would’ve been around your age when we purchased our first television. I remember a small black and white screen. We were fascinated, because it was new and watched this amazing invention from early morning until the test screen at the end of the viewing at night.’ His grandfather remarked.

  ‘How many channels did you have?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Only three – if my memory serves me correct, channel two – ABC; channel nine and channel seven, channels nine and seven showed commercials; ABC didn’t show any.’ His grandfather pondered and thought of how different television is today