fractures


A short work of interactive fiction. Press all buttons and play arrows below to experience the full story. View in full screen.

Our greatest joy and our greatest pain come from our relationships with others.

- Stephen R. Covey

May 2017

“Mum!” My daughter is laughing as she pokes her head around the kitchen door. “I found the margarine you were looking for.” She holds it up triumphantly for me to see. “It was under the kitchen sink.”

“Oh, dear!” I shake my head, wondering again at how scatterbrained I can be. “I must have been having a senior’s moment.”

I turn my attention back to the tablet in front of me. Ally has set it up so that if I slide my finger across the screen, I can see the photos one-by-one. My finger bumps rather than slides over the glass, and suddenly my beautiful granddaughter, Evie, fills the screen. I marvel at her green eyes with those impossibly long lashes. Her thick, dark hair is falling in loose waves over her shoulders, except for two strands from the front, which are secured behind by a delicate veil. She looks exquisite. But there is something bothering me. It’s nagging at the corner of my mind, and I can’t quite bring it to the fore.

“Ally,”  I call out. “When were these taken?” There is silence in the kitchen. I start to rub the base of my neck in agitation.

Ally enters the room and puts her hand on my shoulder. She crouches down beside me, looking into my eyes. “Two weeks ago, Mum,” she says. “At the wedding.”

November 2018

April 2019

They are silent on the way home in the car. He glances at her once when they stop at a set of lights, but she is turned away, staring out the passenger side window. Eventually, the car finds their driveway. Ian reaches for something to say, but her stillness stops him. What must she be thinking? How could this have happened to her, the woman he has spent fifty-one years of his life with, the mother of his two children, who has brought colour, light and oh, so much joy into his life? A pulse of fear races through him: a fear of the unknown, of being in uncharted territory.

“What if I forget you … or the kids,” she whispers.

“It won’t matter,” he says, easing himself towards her and gently bringing her face around so she can see him. Moving his thumb softly across her cheek, he reassures her, “… because we won’t forget you. We’ll work this out together.”

September 2022

It’s a lovely place, this … eating place. There are plants and they are so pretty. Pink and white and purple … purple… oh dear … purple somethings.

There is a woman sitting opposite me. I don’t know who she is, but I like her, and I feel that I should know her. Her eyes are grey. Or are they blue? She stands up to reach behind me and puts something warm across my shoulders. Suddenly, I have the urge to tell her something. It’s been worrying me, and I need to make her understand. I reach over and hold her hands.

“Do you know where I live?” I ask her, twisting the ring on her finger as I talk.

“Yes, I know,” she laughs. “You’ve been there for over 30 years.”

“Have I?” Shards of memory glint just out of my reach. “Well,” I continue. “Sometimes there is … a … lady, in my … where I sleep. She keeps looking at me when I look at her. I talk to her, but she never … says anything.”

“Do you mean in your mirror?” she asks.

“ Yes! No! I don’t know, but the … she just looks at me.”

“And she doesn’t say anything?”

“No! And I don’t know her. And I don’t want her in my … room.” There are tears rolling down my cheeks now. One falls into my mouth. I taste the salt and my thoughts splinter as I am overwhelmed with memories of sand and waves, and wind in my hair.

When I look up again, I can’t quite work out where I am. I see a lady with blue grey eyes looking at me. She takes my hands.

“It’s ok, Mum,” she says. “We’ll make sure she doesn’t come back.”

1 March 2023

I hear voices. Mum and Dad are arguing again. Mum wants to spend two weeks in Sydney with her mother, who’s sick. Dad doesn’t want her to go. He says he can’t leave the store and that he needs her here to help.

I hear Mum crying and I want to comfort her. There’s a man in my bed and I don’t want to disturb him, so I creep out of my room to find her. It’s dark and I have to feel my way carefully along the hallway wall to the kitchen. It’s empty. I move to the back door and quietly step outside hoping to find her on the balcony, but she’s not here, either. Where is she?

I walk down the side of the house to the front garden, my nightdress clinging to me as it absorbs drops from the steady rain. The grass squelches under my feet. Turning out of the gate, I walk faster, hoping that I can catch Mum before she gets too far. The houses beside me are dark and the streetlights end with the footpath, which gives way to dirt and mud. Something catches my foot in the dark. I fall to the ground and feel a sharp, deep pain in my hip. I try to get up, but I can’t.

“Mum!” I call out. “Mum!”

2 March 2023

2 March 2023

Ian’s knee joints crunch and grind as he eases himself down into the chair.  “I really am an old man,” he thinks. As if to emphasise the point a groan escapes him as he reaches for the recliner handle and tilts the chair back. The groan seems loud in the stillness of the house. He feels exposed, but then he remembers there is no-one to hear him.

Fifty-four years they’d been together. There had been some rough times, especially in the weeks and months after he was retrenched. There had still been school fees and a mortgage to contend with, but they’d survived. And the time they’d had after Dan and Ally had moved out had been wonderful. But there was no denying it. The last couple of months had been hard.

Last night, he’d gone to bed exhausted, frustrated with her and with himself. She hadn’t known who he was, and she wouldn’t accept his help. For the first time he’d thought that maybe Ally and Dan were right. Maybe he couldn’t give Margaret what she needed. He’d tried his best, but it obviously wasn’t enough. How could he have slept through her leaving the house?  What if she doesn’t make it? How will the kids ever forgive him? How will he ever forgive himself?

5 March 2023

Margaret is distressed. She’s in a place where they can’t reach her, somewhere between conscious and not. Squeaking and gurgling sounds are escaping from her, and despite her frailty she is moving her arms to free herself from the blankets. She bangs against the metal bars on the side of the bed. Overcome with guilt and grief, Ian puts his hand on her shoulder, whispering that it will all be okay through the tears he can’t contain. Ally tries to gently gather her flailing limbs, while Dan leaves the room to get the nurse. He refuses to look at Ally and he can barely be civil to his father. His fury is palpable, but even he is not aware that the person he is most angry with is himself.

5 March 2023

I’m chasing the waves as they recede from the shoreline, and in turn they chase me back up the beach. They can’t catch me. I throw my arms in the air in exultation, revelling in the tight and prickly sensation the dried salt has left on my skin. Laughing, I shriek and scream into the breeze coming off the water. I turn to look up the beach, squinting into the sun as I search out my parents on the sand. Dad looks as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him. His arms rest on his bent knees, and a cigarette hangs from between his fingers as he looks out at the sea. Mum waves at me with one hand and grabs at her hat with the other as the breeze lifts it from her head. It escapes her grasp and rolls along the sand. I join her in the chase, arms and legs pumping, straining towards the hat. But something is holding me back. There are hands on me, holding me down. I hear voices, too. Now, there are bars against me. I feel them hard and cold as I turn away from the hands that keep pulling on me. There is a sharp pain in my arm, and a heaviness invades me. Darkness swallows my vision, and the hat fades out of reach.

Credits

Photos

Jenoche, Serious woman attending a phone call, Accessed October 26, 2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Peopleimages, Mature man on the phone, accessed 26, 2023October, https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Petkovic, Dusan, Senior lady with tablet, accessed October 5, 2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Umberto, Cracking ice, accessed October 2023, <https://unsplash.com/>

Waiwai08, Wave and sand beach stock photo, accessed October 10, 2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Wildman. J., Winter mountain panorama stock photo, accessed October 30,2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Wildman. J., Morning autumn mountain panorama stock photo, accessed October 30,2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Wildman. J., Winter morning mountain panorama landscape, accessed October 30,2023, <https://www.istockphoto.com/>

Video

Ishukj Oles, Portrait Of The Old Man Sitting In The Rocking Chair, accessed October 2, 2023, <https://www.storyblocks.com/>

Unknown creator, Rain On Black Can Be Mixed With Your Footage, accessed October 5, 2023, <https://www.storyblocks.com/>

Graphics

Burhan Kapiner, Koala, Canva.com, accessed October 19, 2023, <https://www.canva.com/>

Beaandbloom.com, Leaves, Canva.com, accessed October 19, 2023, <https://www.canva.com/>

Freepik, Pink Cosmos, Freepik.com, accessed October 2, 2023, <https://www.freepik.com/>

Sketchify, Flower images(in Calendar), Canva.com, accessed October 5, 2023, <https://www.canva.com/>

Audio

Unknown creator, multimedia musical logo branding signature corporate bright fun guitar picks. piano and warm pad 71007 (Podcast Intro), accessed October 26, 2023 <zapsplat.com>

Unknown creator, Sound Ex Machina, water drops splashing in puddle gentle rain in the background city ambience, Accessed October2, 2023 <zapsplat>

Sound

Patrick Oates

Voices

Patrick Oates, Matthew Oates, Fiona Oates