LIFE DAY...

Jane rolled over in the bed, squeezed open her eyes, and looked at the time on the $2 shop clock... Then it registered.....'Thank Fricken God!' Thought Jane as she leapt out of bed. 'it's life day!.
Life day, to the untitiated, is the day people get paid,or in Janes case, the day she gets her UnemploymentBenefit credited to her meagre account of 10cents.
For one day, Jane doesn't have to worry about her bleary future or bills or no food or worse no damn cigarettes! The impact of the day finally hit home with full force, 'No more ruddy scrabbling round in the friggin ash trays or worse the rubbish bag, when hanging out for a smoke!'She thinks with glee.
Grabbing her jeans from under the pile of clothes on the floor of her room, she has no drawers only a few boxes to keep her stuff in,but who cares?There is more important things than having flash furniture, isn't there?
Jane staggers to the bathroom, stumbling, still bleary with sleep. it's not like she has to get up to go to work, the packhouse closed it's doors a few months ago, and it will be awhile before the season rolls around again.She gives her face a half hearted flick around with a dubious looking facecloth. A quick pull thru with the brush and she's off out the door.
'Won't be long Doris!' She yells to her flatmate, who is still fast asleep, I just gotta get some damn fags!'

The sun is shining and it's a crisp chilly clear winter day. Jane shivers, wishing she had been less impatient, wishing shes grabbed her op shop coat hanging on the back of the door, on the way out.
'O well no use moaning!' she says to herself,I'll just have to walk faster!' And with that thought, she is off at a fast pace.
Johnny J, the local drug dealer, cruises passed her in his black beat up looking v8, yelling out the window, 'Howzit Jen' (he never says her name right!) 'where's ya mate Doris, she owes me 60 bucks!'.!
'She's still asleep I'll tell her ya asked after her.'
In a cloud of blue smoke, Johnny plants his boot and roars off up the road. Leaving Jane to cough at the fumes. 'Stupid idiot', she yells after him, 'and stupid ugly car!' Jeez he must use more in a day on petrol than she gets in her weekly dole, damned parasite friggin dope dealers!!

The shop looms up on the horizon, and Jane quickly glides through the door. 'Morning Mr Singh!' She calls out cheerily, of course shes cheery its life day! She nearly starts singing, but stops herself just in time.
The little Indian man with glasses who owns the shop comes out from the back through some plastic bead curtains that made a clacking sound as they settle back to stillness.Hiding, once again the dark doorway that leads to the back of the shop, and Mr Singhs small sitting room.'So very good to see you Miss Jane!' he's happy too, Mr Singh knows its Dole day and many locals will be in to pay their weekly accounts.
'How much do I owe you?' Jane asks cheerily. 'It is $52.28c.' I will take off the 28 cents for prompt payment.'
Some of the shine starts to wear off Janes day. Her meagre benefit of $160.00 is starting to whittle away. She leaves the shop with just over half her money left after buying fags, milk and bread and a dozen eggs.
'God, stuff is so dear!' she thinks to herself 'there's just no getting ahead of things!'
Jane plonks herself down on the wooden bus stop seat just outside the shop. despite the cold day, she ignores her shaking hands and near chattering teeth to experience that feeling she has been missing for a few days, the pure sweet hit of that first fresh new fag on life day, ahhhhh! If there is such a thing as ecstasy, this is it!!
Just as she was getting lost in the moment, lost in that short time space one gets every now and again, where one can just indulge, with pleasure in whatever one is doing, with no beginning, and no end, and certainly no consequences, along comes the town tramp, Mr Beasley, B to everyone who knows him. He lowers himself down onto the bench next to her. As he settles himself Jane smells a collection of odd smells that seem to emanate from him, the more he moves the stronger the whiff!Sweat, urine mothballs and you name it! Wrinkling her nose, Jane eyes him suspiciously. 'Whaddya you want?' she asks him directly. He turns his unwashed unshaved face towards her, his bright blue crazy looking eyes gazing deep into hers, almost hypnotising,and asked in his soft husky croaky old voice...'Any chance'?
'No chance! Get a real job or something, I ain't given you nothing mate, what do you see sucker stamped on my friggin head you stupid stinkin freak!' At this point ,Jane stands up so suddenly that she almost fell forward, much to the delight of the Tramp, who enjoyed making people feel uncomfortable. That, or pity were the emotions he liked best from people. Either one made no difference to the Tramp, the result was always the same. Giving, ahh people were mainly a kind lot!
Jane throws down her half smoked ciggy and stomped off, the enjoyment of the smoke totally ruined by the arrival of MrB. Beasley!
Meanwhile, Mr Beasley was settling himself down very comfortably thankyou, on the bench with Janes half smoked ciggy, After all waste not want not! Yeah, the result was always the same, people were a kind lot, and very giving!.............................W.Taylor. No copying without permissin of me, the author....