Fiction

A Backblocks Epicurean

I stepped out of my front gate this morning and found a twenty-dollar note lying on the footpath. “Happy Father’s Day!” I told myself and pocketed the note. I thought I heard my mobile phone ring and patted my pockets to find it, but the ringing stopped. I heard my neighbour answer, “Hello,” and then say, “Thanks, love, I’ll look forward to it.” My mobile had the same ring tone as his phone. It had fooled me before. I walked past their house. The front door was open to the warm spring air and I could see him standing in…

Subscribe to get access to all online articles