Defiant survivor of the darkest depths.
Resilient enough to shine despite the harsh world below.
The courage of that stubborn sparkle reminds me of my mother.
What would she think if she saw me right now?
Dressed all fancy to fit in with the crowd.
Tall and clean shaven.
Building a career.
Would she be ashamed that I love a man out loud?
Would she recognise her little boy?
Would she forgive me for leaving?
I nudge the thought from my mind, at least until the day of graduation.
That's when I miss her the most.
???
At sparrow's fart, I search for Jundah on Google Maps.
Zooming in on a satellite image of my old house, I whisper hello.
As if my mum might wander to the mail box and wave back.
But all I see is scorched red earth.
Miles of nothing.
An echo of a painful life, one I’ve tried so hard to forget.
Zooming out again, I cover the town with my hand.
Three little Mark thumbs, the distance on a map between mother and son.
One and a half Marco thumbs, a third of a continent.
I’ve continued to send letters every month without fail.
But I long to hear her voice, today of all days.
“Guess what, Ma?” I imagine telling her. “I did it. I finished my degree.”
I figure there’s a seventy-thirty chance that the phone is even connected.
Has the Telstra bill been paid?
Or has the money disappeared into oblivion?
Standing in the courtyard in my cap and gown, I remember the number by heart.
It rings four times before the click.
