EDitorial ± 6-Jul-2009

Bubble Popped

When I lock my bike, they'll be wondering why I wasn't there earlier for the 6pm prize-giving.

When I walk towards the waterfront doorway, they'll point through the window and mouth the words There's Ed, Ip-Art Short Story Winner in 2007.

When I enter the swish new UCS building, other attendees will knowingly direct me upstairs to tonight's Writers Cafe event.

When I climb the stairs to the 3rd floor, they'll ask if I'm reading tonight, then say Oh You Must.

When I push through the double doors, the judges will catch my eye and rush over to talk to me.

When I say hi, they'll say But Didn't You Get Our Letter Confirming That You'd Been Shortlisted?

When I deny seeing any such letter, I'll point out that some post -- a Lovejoy DVD, a PS2 game -- went AWOL at home recently.

When I witness the confusion clearing, they'll pull out the winners' cheque, shake my hand and say I Think This Belongs To You.

I lock my bike, walk towards the waterfront doorway, enter the swish new USC building, climb the stairs to the 3rd floor, push through the double doors and say hi to the judges.

"Ah, Ed, good to see you. Are you still writing?"