Mud! by Matt Zurbo   Everyone in dull, yet big, Greytown shuffled rather than romped. Bored, frustrated, obedient, they worked and never stopped. Carlo F Colosimo, was similar to that, even though, inside, he hummed Zoop, doop, dee-doop, dee-dat…! Then, he stopped dead, in his small boy tracks. There was a puddle of goo, brown, … Continue reading Day 338: Mud!

Cloud of Tears by Matt Zurbo   One day a cloud appeared like no other cloud. (Small cloud, rain falling.) It rained like no other rain. Tear drops instead of water, falling to the ground. (Close up of rain starting to fall on the faces of people looking up into the grey.) Some people ran … Continue reading Day 337: Cloud of Tears

Freedom Is... by Matt Zurbo   I wonder if I had wings, would I feel more free? (Kid with wings, looks small as soaring in clouds.) How would I handle the winds? (Kid with wings tumbling through air.) The cold? (Kid, hugging own shoulders, cold, while arching around snowy peak.) Predators? (Kid flying, being harassed … Continue reading Day 336: Freedom Is…

The Farmyard Champion by Matt Zurbo   Logan had a problem. (Kid hands in pockets, kicking rock along dusty road.) “I want to be a country football legend like Dad!” he said. (Kid, possum wrapped around shoulders, looking at Dad’s trophy in the farm shed, on clustered tool shelf.) But Logan also loved his farm … Continue reading Day 335: The Farmyard Champion