Day 303: It’s Just a Little Breeze

It’s Just a Little Breeze
by
Matt Zurbo

(Kid and wombat walking together on bush track. No background.)

It’s just a little breeze.
(Kid happy, flying kite. Wombat running alongside.)

It’s only a bunch of leaves.
(Kid and wombat playing, laughing, in dead leaves.)

Pfft. They’re only clouds.
(Kid and wombat in hot air balloon, wombat in pilot’s helmet and goggles, in awe of billowing clouds around them.)

It’s only an animal.
(Kid and wombat’s faces, down at ground level, watching a duckling waddle by.)

All I could get was radio.
(Kid and wombat dancing on hillside to small transistor radio.)

The moon is only dead rock.
(Kid and wombat looking up, in awe, at streaks of moonlight, and moon, through bush trees.)

I can’t jump very far.
(Kid and wombat, no ground, jumping, eyes closed, happy, arms and legs everywhere.)

Such a small sound.
(Wombat, scared, has leapt into arms of kid. Both are looking at tiny, blue-chested wren singing at boy’s feet.)

It’s just an insect.
(Kid and wombat concentrating, looking up at lone bee.)

The food wasn’t that special.
(Kid stuffing burger and chips into himself. Wombat beside him, eating grass.)

We had to use our imagination.
(Kid and wombat using sticks for swords, eye patches and pirate’s hat, playing in apple box in long grass, as if it was a small pirate ship.)

There’s no moon tonight.
(Kid giving wombat a shoulder ride, as they look up in awe at the Milky Way, which fills the sky around them.)

We had to walk.
(Bush track, kid skipping, holding his stick like a light sabre. Wombat happily running alongside.)

Not much happened.
(Kid, ankle-deep in creek, skimming rock. Wombat leaping with joy.)

At all.
(Wombat and kid lazing in branches of a tree.)

The day wouldn’t end…
(Kid and wombat playing at otherwise empty beach.)

It’s not a million dollars, but…
(Kid and wombat hugging, eyes shut, content smiles.)

 

The End

 

 

 

 

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