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Creative Writing: Mother's Avoca

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“I’ll be home at half past eight. Please leave dinner for me in the fridge.” Hugh called over his shoulder. Mother exhaled a faint sigh.

“Oh Hugh, why can’t you get some actual friends? You are spending far too much time at that Ivoca village.” Mother responded.

“Mother, its Avoca.” He informed her enunciating the ‘a’. “Won’t you come with me?” He politely asked while opening the fly screen door.

“Your father is coming home from work soon.” She hesitantly answered. “Oh hell, I’m sure he can wait if I don’t get back home before he does. How often do I get to spend time with my baby to see what he has been doing every Tuesday arvo?” She exclaimed as she placed the roast beef back on a serving plate and put it in the fridge.

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“Coen, I would like to make it up to you. Let me help you. Let me help your people. I want to build on what my son has started here.”

Mother pulled out her notepad where the names of all her friends had been written. She presented it to Coen adding that all these names would be able to help the village with resources that they may need to strive. Coen then told Sharon that he himself acknowledged her as being “safe” towards his people. For out of all her people, only mother and Hugh were considered “safe” thus far.

“We have to take this one step at a time.” Coen added.

“Mother, I think its time you go home. Father should be home and you know how persistent he is with his dinners. There are a million more Tuesdays to visit the Avoca village with me.” Hugh told mother as Coen nodded in agreement.

Coen handed mother her unfinished wattleseed and pepperberry chai as she stood up and he expressed his gratitude towards her desires for the Avoca village.

“I’ll be home at half past eight. Please leave dinner for me in the fridge.” Hugh called over his shoulder. Mother waved

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