Fortuitous Tide

Reminder: Free short story – see below ‘A Pearl for Your Enjoyment’

Every year we talk about New Year’s resolutions. This year I am not going to waste my time making any. All my best plans disappear down a drain hole within hours of the break of day on New Year’s Day.

My plans will include nothing more than writing my yarns until my heart is content.

Which reminds me – “Shadows Across Cape York” – the third book in the trilogy following “Shadow of the Northern Orchid” and “Shadows on the Goldfield Track” is up and running.

Current Weather and Tides

The history of the Australian Light Horse continues to enthrall me. At this rate, novel number six will never even get past the name and as you know my book names can take an age to decide on.

Planning on a trip to the Darling Downs in January – always a pleasure.

Keep safe, Keep smiling, Keep reading, Keep writing.

Elizabeth Rimmington

A Pearl for your Enjoyment


“Wait for me, Billeeee!” Jack’s words went unheeded by his older brother. They dissipated within the dust stirred up by two pairs of running feet. Dust swirled up about Jack’s face stealing away what little breath remained. He coughed.

“Last one’s a stinking rotten egg.” Billy’s words screamed back at him.

The pounding of his feet echoed inside Jack’s head along with resentment, anger and envy. They all crashed and ground into each other. The empty bucket slapping against his leg with every step added irritation to the mix.

I should just leave this damn bucket here and go back home. Billy can catch the yabbies on his own. This thought was barely born within Jack’s mind when it slipped and slithered amongst the other battling occupants inside his head. Jack skidded to a stop. He teased the latest addition out into the open. The breeze, laced with the hint of gum leaves, cooled the perspiration wet upon his skin.

Jack stopped. Air whistled in his throat as his body sucked it into his chest. Slowly his breathing returned to normal. A jealous gaze stretched forward to where his brother had disappeared within the forest, along the track leading to the big dam where the yabbies were always plentiful. Why was Billy so arrogant? Jack might only be eight-year-old, but he knew this word quite well. Their sister Peg used it often. She said all boys were arrogant. Why did Billy always have to run so fast? Mum told us to both get the yabbies. He’s showing off again. He’s always showing off, just because he’s two years older. He’ll be sorry when I’m not there to pull the yabbies out of the trap. He likes me to be around then, to help him. He’s a big sook when they bite his fingers. Jack sat in the dirt and turned his foot up to the late afternoon sun. His grubby fingers pulled at the khaki burrs in his foot. Well, he can damn well wait for me.

“Jack!” drifted back above the sound of the leaves rustling on the rising winds. “Jack, are you alright?”

Jack looked up to see Billy standing at the edge of the tree line. Leaving his resentment, envy and irritations in the dirt beside the burrs, Jack sprung to his feet and ran towards his brother with a heart lighter than the empty bucket now banging against his legs. Billy had come back for him.

The boys walked together to the side of the pool where the yabbies were always the biggest. Squeals of delight and pain drifted up into the branches of the gum trees where the kookaburras sat silenced by laughter almost equal to their own.

Water splashed over the edges of the bucket filled with yabbies. Grins lit up their faces as they reminisced over wonderful meals of yabbies previously encountered. Their tongues rolled inside their mouths as they anticipated the smell of the cooking feast, the crunch of the shells being removed, and the first bite as their teeth broke through the sweet tender flesh.