Nothing else by Alison Davis
We hang out back, jostling so when it comes we can take it like it’s ours alone, holding tight as they roll in, smooth as fresh snow, nothing, nothing and then maybe something and I paddle hard, arms churning like propeller blades, but it’s a tease, and we collectively sigh and turn back, slippery as seals, waiting, waiting, letting time hold us there, poised and still, and now it offers itself up and I plough and plunder, suck in air, cut through silk and fly and float like I’m wind and water and there’s nothing else — because there’s nothing else.
Alison Davis is a Perth short story and flash fiction writer. She has won the Stuart Hadow Short Story Competition and Now and Then Literature Prize, and received prizes or been shortlisted in competitions including Armadale Writers' Award, Love To Read Local Flash Fiction competition, Bath Flash Fiction Award, Peter Cowan 600 Short Story Competition and Newcastle Short Story Award. Her stories have been published in anthologies including Twice Not Shy, Three Can Keep a Secret, Award Winning Australian Writing and 2023 Bath Flash Fiction Anthology. See www alisondaviswriter.com.