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“Ham” by Killick

Today’s story is “Ham” by Killick, who has short stories published in several furry anthologies, and is currently working on his first novel. You can find more of his writings on his blog, or on Fur Affinity.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

thevoice.dog | Apple podcasts | Spotify | Google Podcasts

If you have a story you think would be a good fit, you can check out the requirements, fill out the submission template and get in touch with Khaki on Twitter or Telegram!

Transcript
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you're listening to the voice of dog.

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I'm cocky.

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Your faithful fireside companion, and today's story is ham by Killick.

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The last short stories published in several furry anthologies and is

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currently working on his first novel.

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You can find more of his writings on his blog or on Fairfield.

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Please enjoy ham by Killick

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It was as hot.

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Like the saying goes as bull.

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The bus window dripped with condensation air conditioner, struggling to keep the

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outside heat at bay scrub, and paperbark trees whizzed past letting through quick

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flashes of red tiled roofs beyond them.

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A wide mountain covered in thick tree growth.

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Dominated the.

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Linda A.

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Black and white speckled blue healer stared through the window

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at the mountain and tried to focus on how beautiful it was.

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The view from this particular suburban road was gorgeous, but Linda still felt

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her ears droop, just a little, the bus stopped and Linda collected her things.

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She dug in her shorts pocket for a go-kart and tapped it against the

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electronic reader, which beeped her.

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Natira.

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Thank you.

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Merry Christmas.

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Recall to the bus driver who just waved a porn response.

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The side door hissed, open heat slapped into Linda's body.

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Like a wet towel, instantly destroying even the memory of the wonderful chill

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of the air conditioned bus, her glasses, big round ones fogged up for several

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seconds . And she felt an immediate stickiness in the fur under her armpits.

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She swore in resigned horror at the sudden temperature hike as was the

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great Australian tradition of literally anyone walking outside from a cold place

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during the summer, she still wasn't used to this kind of heat each day.

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She swore that it could not possibly get any hotter.

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, and then each new day would usually prove her.

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She breathed in a lung full of thick, humid air and started to walk roared

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around her almost as loud as the bus, as it took off above her, in

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the trees, magpies gentle warbles would turn into aggressive screams.

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When she passed below the fog finally vanished from her glasses, letting

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her see clearly the haze of heat that rose from the concrete path.

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It wasn't even noon yet.

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Linda's pause clutched at a Tupperware container full of hand, iced

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Christmas biscuits and a plastic Woolworths bag that contained a

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bottle of wine and a wrapped present.

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The tiny part of her resented, what she was doing.

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It was a first Christmas in Brisbane and more importantly, her first away from

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family, she already missed the family traditions, French toast for breakfast

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followed by the present exchange at night.

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Table set for eight with a good plate and fancy napkins.

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Everyone wearing their best shirts and jackets, except for uncle Dan who

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insisted on wearing the brightest most ridiculous Hawaiian clothes possible.

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And dad divvying up the slices of glazed ham with a fervor of a circus ringleader,

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not to mention the fresh prawns.

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Oh man.

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Those prawns Linda couldn't imagine prawns from anywhere else tasting

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as good as they did back home.

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She balanced the box of biscuits in the crook of her elbow and dug her

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phone out of her pocket quickly wiping it against her shorts to remove the

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thin layer of sweat from the screen.

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She checked for any updates on the group, chat that doubled as the party

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invitation, a few friends had reported as being on their way or already

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arrived, which was good as Linda hated being the first to show up.

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But social events, the party was a barbecue.

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According to the.

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Linda liked barbecues, but on Christmas day it seemed way too casual.

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She Liked a bit of Pompe on the most wonderful day of the year.

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She also liked it about 12 degrees cooler.

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Linda closed the chat, but her blackmail hovered over the.

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No.

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She thought pulling her, pull away and shoving her phone into

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the recesses of her shorts.

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Don't read it again.

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It'll just piss you off more.

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The last thing she wanted was to be angry on Christmas day.

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The walk from the bus stop was only about eight minutes, but it may as

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well have been an eight kilometer run.

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By the time she walked up, the driveway of the house, Linda was panting

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like crazy, and she could smell her.

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Wanting away a few flies.

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She briefly considered that she could probably kill a man

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for a drink of ice cold water.

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The house was an old Queenslander style built on stilts to avoid

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the occasional tropical flood.

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And apparently to keep them cooler in the heat.

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Linda was convinced the latter feature was a complete myth as every

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Queenslander house she'd stayed in.

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Got just as hot as any.

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The color of the house had once been white, but decades of weather

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had stripped much of the paint away along with several chips of wood.

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It's current condition screamed cheap and shitty student share house.

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But as with all houses of that caliber, it wasn't the outside.

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But the people inside that made it a home, Linda breathe deeply of the Jasmine

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that grew up the front latticework and threatened to tear down the front gutter.

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It was in full bloom and smelled.

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Hopefully it will also mask a little of her own stink.

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She wished she'd brought a can of deodorant with her.

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She knocked the thumping of heavy footfalls approached, almost shaking

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the entire wooden frame of the house and a large kangaroo appeared wearing

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a tank top bright orange board shorts and fuzzy Santa hat on her head.

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I go Merry Christmas, said K, pushing the screen door open, and

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then pulling the dog into a hug.

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Linda did her best to have the tall young woman back while still balancing the

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plastic container and bag of goodies.

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Merry Christmas.

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Kay.

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I brought biscuits and some wine.

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Ooh, fancy.

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So that the kangaroo peaking in the bag at the bottle gum in everyone's Outback.

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If you have anything that needs to go in the fridge, then you might be out of luck.

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Me and Eric went a bit crazy with the salads and Angus

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brought a huge bowl of trifle.

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It's bloody insane.

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K led Linda through the house.

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So she talked, the living room, usually packed with textbooks, abandoned crochet

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projects and old guitars was even more cramped with the Christmas decorations up.

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Anything that could support tinsel was heavily tins vilified.

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The plastic Christmas tree stood in the.

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Only four feet tall and radiating cheapness.

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. It had still been lovingly decorated with glitter spattered baubles at

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the very top set of felt angel Dingo dressed in a white gown, and lacewings

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the stereotypical cork, slouch hat and holding what was unmistakably a can of VB.

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It was much too heavy for the plastic tree, making the

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entire thing group to one side.

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A far cry from the elegant glass and gold star.

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That will be adoring the top of Linda's parents tree, but it still made her giggle

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Kay turned and spoke over her shoulder.

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We got an esky out back with softy, ciders and beers.

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You're welcome to help yourself beer, but there's not even new.

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Okay, grinned, nothing wrong with a cheeky Christmas bevy.

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Although most of us will probably wait until lunch is ready.

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Linda followed K through the kitchen and sniffed at the air.

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What's cooking.

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My famous Christmas ham Kay said puffing her chest out.

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Ham.

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Linda licked her muzzle, the melancholy lifting, just some of its weight from her.

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I thought it was just a barbecue.

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She would grab it the word just as soon as he spoke it just a barbecue.

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Like she was too good for her friend's party.

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Like it was beneath her.

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However, Kay.

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Didn't seem to notice.

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I always do a ham.

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It doesn't feel like Christmas without one.

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To me, I've got a bunch of snags and chicken as well for the Babbie to keep us.

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Linda forced a smile, her brain working overtime to decide if

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she needed to apologize or not.

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This K noticed she placed a port on the dog shoulder and spoke

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softer privately, knowingly.

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Linda, how is everything going?

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Are you doing okay?

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Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.

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I'm fine.

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Just hot.

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Really?

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Okay, sure.

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Go ahead.

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You'll muzzle saying one thing, but your tail saying another,

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the kangaroo crossed her arms.

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Is it your dad again?

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Linda side.

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Have you called him yet kiosk?

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Now I want to, I also really don't want to, I get it.

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I'm not going to tell you whether you should or not, or whatever happens.

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I got you back, girl, the affirmation brought back the tiny smile to Linda's.

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Thanks.

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Kay, come on.

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Let's go around the back.

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A cluster of fold-out camping chairs, the cheapest that Bunnings had to

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offer formed a rough circle around an inflatable Kitty's paddle pool with

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a yellow scraggly lawn stretching beneath them from fence defense.

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The animals in the occupied chair looked up waved and shouted arousing round of

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Merry Christmas as Linda and Kay descended the steps from the house to the backyard.

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Kay introduced Linda to the small group.

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Angus, the rat gave a smile and simple.

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Hello.

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Linda had no idea how he was wearing black, skinny jeans in this weather.

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Eric, the rabbits, a fellow theater geek.

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She already knew.

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And finally, a thickly built board named Mesa, who lazily wandered between the

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circle of chairs and an old flat top bar.

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Get that.

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Linda May.

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So slurred loudly a of your four X dangling from his Trotter.

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Continue.

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All right.

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How are you?

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He ain't no bed.

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Fuck him.

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Buggy.

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He's fucking hate.

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Fuck.

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Eric, the rabbits turned and smiled.

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How are you enjoying your first Brisbane?

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Christmas?

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I'm not Linda thought trying to stop her tail from drooping.

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It's too hot.

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I didn't get any French toast.

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I can't afford any decorations for my garbage apartment.

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I miss my family, but I also hate them right now, out loud.

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She said, oh, I'm still getting used to things.

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So Linda, where are you from our status in a voice that was light, but we too cool.

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Launceston Tasmania.

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I moved up in June to finish uni feds.

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Awesome.

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Set.

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I guess I've been to Tazzy and the Halbert though.

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Decent drinking scene.

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Amazing art gallery.

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Linda felt a phone buzz and her attention tour away from the conversation.

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Dammit.

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She hated how wound up she still was jumpy.

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She pulled out her phone without thinking and checked it.

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It was a message from dad.

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Call us please.

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Three little words and a full stop that screamed louder than any capsule.

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Could Linda started breathing in shock breaths?

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What did it mean?

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No.

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Merry Christmas.

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No.

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Hello?

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No love you.

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Just three words was wasn't.

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Uh, demand.

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Were they angry you or was it a plea, a desperate scratch for validation or

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was she just completely, over-analyzing a message sent by a boomer who

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didn't understand text etiquette.

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That could be oblivious when he wanted to, why did she have to call them?

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Why the hell couldn't they call her?

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They wanted to talk to her.

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So desperately Linda realized she was squeezing her.

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She stood up suddenly quicker than she meant to mumbled, excuse me,

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and shuffled away from whatever conversation she interrupted.

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She stared into her phone.

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Moving from, launched into Brisbane, had to be in the plan for quite

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some time work prospects were more promising, But honestly it was because

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most of her friends lived up here.

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She met so many wonderful people online and made the kind of strong

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connections that you just couldn't seem to find in her hometown.

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At first, her parents were doubtful in time.

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That doubt had turned it to support.

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And six months ago, Linda had made the move.

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Something she'd feared would always be out of her reach.

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It was the happiest she had ever.

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Then the holiday season started to loom the regular phone calls

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to her parents became increasingly strained as December approached.

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At first, they simply asked what her plans for Christmas were when

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she truthfully told them she had no idea they'd responded with.

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You're always welcome here with us.

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Linda assumed they were just curious in that parental kind of way, letting

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her know that they still loved her by offering a symbolic place at the table.

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Truthfully, Linda would love to fly back home for Christmas, but the final

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say in the matter came from her bank account, there was no way she could

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afford a plane ticket to Tasmania.

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Not in December.

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The airfares were always subject up for Christmas.

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So in Linda's mind, that was the end of it.

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But then the hints got heavier and more overt.

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About two weeks before Christmas day, her dad called and said, you should

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come down and spend Christmas with.

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The way he'd said it was final a demand without being an order.

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She knew what her dad could be like, and she dreaded what came next.

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Won't be the same without you.

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You're breaking traditions moving up there.

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It wasn't a smart idea.

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Why are you trying to upset us?

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The calls and texts came like little pinches making her wince

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and hesitate every time her phone.

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On the rare occasion, she got to talk to mum instead.

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She told Linda not to stress.

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You know what dad's like?

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She did know, but it was hurting her.

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And she didn't know how to tell her parents that they were her parents.

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She loved them.

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The last message between them was a text from dad.

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I just don't see why you can't come down here for Christmas.

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We always have Christmas together.

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That was three days.

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She never responded.

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She didn't know how her feet twisted against the yellow grass,

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almost digging into the dirt.

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Her lips tensed up revealing teeth, and she caught herself about

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a snarl at her phone, a strong tanned poor quarter shoulder.

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Hey, what's wrong?

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The touch of case Paul on Linda's shoulder, sooth, the dog, as it

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had done several times before still trembling, Linda showed the

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kangaroo the most recent message.

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Ah, right.

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Okay.

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Nodded slowly, honey.

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Maybe you should call them.

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Otherwise this is going to eat a you all day.

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It might not be so bad.

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It can't exactly order you to get on a plane right now.

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Linda side, you really think so you should a hike to see you like this.

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If you talk to them, you might feel better.

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It's worth a shot.

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I hate that.

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I think you're right.

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. You deserve to be happy.

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Especially today.

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Linda smiled.

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Weakly.

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Thanks for.

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You're going to need backup.

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Kay said crossing her arms over her muscular chest and frowning.

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I wouldn't mind having a couple of words with your dad.

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I'll be all right now where he's then the kangaroo stepped away.

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Linda was grateful for the space.

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She took a deep breath and dialed oh, Linda, Merry Christmas.

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Good.

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I love good to see the two dogs on the other end of the video call

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were blue Heelers like her, but the black fare around their muscles

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started to fade into a dark gray.

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Hi mom.

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Hi dad, Mary Christmas.

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Linda tried to put as much smile into her muzzle as she

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could, without looking insane.

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She was glad they couldn't see her tail in the video call, as it would

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have given away her true mood.

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Mum, beamed through the camera, sweetie.

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I miss you so much.

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How is everything up there?

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Are you having a good Christmas?

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Everything is fine.

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She lied.

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Everything would be a hell of a lot better if dad would stop pestering

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her, but she would never say that.

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Besides, she wants to keep this call pleasant simple.

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And most of all, short I'm a case she's making Christmas

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lunch, that nodded and smiled.

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It's a real shame.

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You couldn't get down here.

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It's not the same without you.

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Linda's tail started to move and short strokes.

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She helped the same anxiety wasn't showing in her face.

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That's fair dad.

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Sometimes that's just how.

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She was about to ask what kind of crazy shirt uncle Dan was wearing this year?

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Desperate to keep the conversation light when dad decided he just couldn't help

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himself, you still could've come down.

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We could have paid half the airfare hollow buzz started at the base of

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Linda skull eating up her words.

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Dad had never offered to pay any part of the plane ticket before.

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Why would he say this?

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What did he think it would achieve except to make her feel even more like a villain

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for not thinking to ask it herself?

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Not that it would have mattered anyway, she still would not have

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been able to afford even half a plane tickets at Christmas prices.

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I'm sorry.

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She mumbled I've darting around, but I couldn't.

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I know you're up there to visit friends, but it's left

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me and your mum and a bit of a.

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Linda's jaw clenched, tight, visit friends.

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This wasn't some holiday.

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It was permanent.

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His complete dismissal of the chains that she'd forged for herself

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made her blood boil, treating it like some temporary stick.

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like it wasn't a permanent and meaningful decision she'd made on her own.

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Like she was supposed to scurry home any day.

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Now with her tail between her legs dead.

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I.

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That's brow rose.

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My nucleus barely a Twitch of muscle.

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Just try to be more prepared in the future.

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Please.

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Linda's grip around her phone, turned into Claude, vice as

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something inside her snapped.

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It's literally Christmas day and I have no money.

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What the fuck do you want me to do?

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Run to the airport right now and hijack a plane.

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Linda.

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He barked do not talk to me like.

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Oh, I'm not allowed to say fuck, but you're allowed to make me

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feel terrible for our, just want us to have Christmas as a family.

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Like we've always done.

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You moved up there without considering anyone's feelings, but your own Linda's

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grip around the phone tightened.

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I have.

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Dear you, you, you hypocrite.

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. Do you have any idea how shitty you've been making me feel with all

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that guilt shaming you've thrown.

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You ain't like, I don't want to come back, but I do.

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Uh, so duke can afford it right now because I don't have any money

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because I don't have a decent job because I haven't finished uni yet.

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Patients' dad is all I'm asking for.

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It's really that simple, but you're turning it into this weird feud.

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And it's making me feel like a worthless piece of shit that

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opened his mouth to retort.

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But Linda was damned if she was going to let him interrupt her again, she changes

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dead things that I always stay the same.

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I've had to make some hard decisions to make sure my life

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has gone to be a good one.

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And I'm sorry, that's making your perfect holiday uncomfortable.

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The inside of dad's ears burned a bright pink stop making this about you.

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Mum, whose muzzle had slowly moved out of the frame of the video as dad

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dominated the call suddenly spoke up.

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Andy.

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I think that I'd like to talk to Linda now.

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Not now, love I, Andrew mum said the name short and sharp.

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An order.

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Linda stood frozen in the middle of the hot sun filtering through the

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leaves of a mango tree, watching a confused bursts of images on her phone.

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As her parents' device was manhandled over 1700 kilometers away.

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The movement too quick for the camera to keep up.

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Her ears, twitched of their own accord, trying to focus on individual sounds

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but stayed confused when all that noise came from the same tinny speaker.

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She heard her parents' voices, but not the word.

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Dell Claus clacking against the device.

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Drown those out.

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Eventually Linda heard mom say, Andrew, please.

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Andrew followed by the slam of the door.

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Really I could bloody belt in one, said mum, more to herself

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than to Linda as sweetie.

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I'm so sorry.

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I didn't realize we were upsetting you so much.

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I'll make sure to have words with your dead.

Khaki QOD:

She shook her head paused and looked sheepishly at the screen.

Khaki QOD:

He's being very immature about this.

Khaki QOD:

Isn't he?

Khaki QOD:

Yeah, he is.

Khaki QOD:

Linda said softly.

Khaki QOD:

What you're doing is very brave.

Khaki QOD:

I hope you know that your dad's just not quite ready to move on.

Khaki QOD:

We've always lived here.

Khaki QOD:

He loves you and misses you.

Khaki QOD:

I suppose.

Khaki QOD:

He's just not dealing with it very well.

Khaki QOD:

He can't expect me to stay around forever.

Khaki QOD:

You'll right.

Khaki QOD:

And it's selfish of him to think that you should she side I'll

Khaki QOD:

let you get back to your party.

Khaki QOD:

Now, can you call us again, please?

Khaki QOD:

Perhaps in a day.

Khaki QOD:

Sure mum, I can do that.

Khaki QOD:

Great.

Khaki QOD:

Another call to wait anxiously for, but maybe mum could talk some sense into dad.

Khaki QOD:

Maybe I love you.

Khaki QOD:

Linda.

Khaki QOD:

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, mom.

Khaki QOD:

The phone went silent in her pores.

Khaki QOD:

Linda stared at the screen for way too.

Khaki QOD:

It was easier just to stand there, analyzing the bright pixels than it

Khaki QOD:

was to interact with the outside world.

Khaki QOD:

Again, how did it go?

Khaki QOD:

Kay's voice pulled Linda out of her.

Khaki QOD:

Trans not as bad as I thought, but somehow also much worse than I could've

Khaki QOD:

imagined Christ nothing awful happened.

Khaki QOD:

Did it?

Khaki QOD:

I, I don't know her face brightened.

Khaki QOD:

Mum's being really.

Khaki QOD:

That'll help deal with your dad, won't it?

Khaki QOD:

Yeah, I hope so.

Khaki QOD:

Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Leaned in for a hug.

Khaki QOD:

The kangaroo always made Linda feel soft and warm, even if Kay herself was

Khaki QOD:

sturdy and lean Kay pulled back and held the dog by the shoulders lunches

Khaki QOD:

ready, came on a good fetal help.

Khaki QOD:

You feel better?

Khaki QOD:

The kangaroo didn't take her eyes off Linda until the dog gave her a nine.

Khaki QOD:

Then she turned and called out.

Khaki QOD:

Okay.

Khaki QOD:

You feel the animals lunches officially served, whoops, and hollows.

Khaki QOD:

Mark the migration to the plastic picnic table, way down by the various

Khaki QOD:

glad wrapped plates and Tupperware containers that had been brought to share

Khaki QOD:

more friends of K's had arrived each bringing their own tribute to the midday.

Khaki QOD:

A tray of sliced watermelon pineapple and aromatic mango cheeks sat next to a

Khaki QOD:

bowl of shiny cherries, a green salad, pasta salad, and potato salad were lined

Khaki QOD:

up in descending order of healthiness and ascending order of which would be eaten.

Khaki QOD:

First slices of cold Turkey breasts were arranged in a careful circle

Khaki QOD:

right next to a bamboo bowl full of fried pork dumplings with soy.

Khaki QOD:

Uh, foil tray of still sizzling snags and the chicken wings and prawns of

Khaki QOD:

course, bright orange in their shells.

Khaki QOD:

Linda's biscuits were yet to join the table, laying in, wait with the other

Khaki QOD:

dessert in the cool refuge of K's fridge in the very center of the table, sat

Khaki QOD:

the undisputed champion of the lunch.

Khaki QOD:

Ks Christmas.

Khaki QOD:

Surrounded by little pots of mustard, cranberry, and apple sauce, the baked

Khaki QOD:

ham glistened from the juicy pink meat to the almost black sheen of the thick

Khaki QOD:

glaze Linda quarter with the scent and immediately started salivate.

Khaki QOD:

The smell alone was enough to shake away the funk of the phone call.

Khaki QOD:

Plastic forks and paper plates were handed out and then crammed

Khaki QOD:

with enough food to compromise the structural integrity of the west.

Khaki QOD:

Linda filled hers with mostly the ham potato salad and a pile of prawns.

Khaki QOD:

She'd go back for the other salads later, the potatoes were soft and creamy with a

Khaki QOD:

little too much mustard for her liking, but it was still the perfect comfort food.

Khaki QOD:

She balanced the paper plate on her knees and cut herself a big fork full

Khaki QOD:

of the ham, making sure to get a hefty scraping of the black goopy glaze.

Khaki QOD:

Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Sat down next to her.

Khaki QOD:

She looked expectantly at Linda or more accurately at Linda's

Khaki QOD:

ambitious forkful Linda smiled and shoved the meat into her muscle.

Khaki QOD:

Car tongue lit up followed quickly by our eyes, citrus and

Khaki QOD:

earthiness washed over her tongue.

Khaki QOD:

Ultimately carrying the buttery fatty ham flavor with it.

Khaki QOD:

It was so juicy.

Khaki QOD:

How, and she was very surprised by how salty it wasn't.

Khaki QOD:

If that made any sense, her dads have needed a good spoonful of cranberry or

Khaki QOD:

apple sauce to cut through the briny flavor, but this hadn't needed nothing.

Khaki QOD:

It did it all on its own.

Khaki QOD:

She chewed for a moment and then almost squealed.

Khaki QOD:

. What is that?

Khaki QOD:

She asked through a muffled smile, a dark tweak, like sweetness spread

Khaki QOD:

over her tongue as a piece of glaze, crusted fat danced over her taste

Khaki QOD:

buds marmalade Kay answered, found the recipe online a few years ago.

Khaki QOD:

Haven't had any complaints.

Khaki QOD:

It's fucking amazing.

Khaki QOD:

Linda Gridley Wolf down the rest of the meat, then just sat and let her mouth hang

Khaki QOD:

on to the flavor, committing it to memory.

Khaki QOD:

The prawns were next.

Khaki QOD:

Linda removed the head and shell with delicate precise movements.

Khaki QOD:

Then pop the flesh into her muzzle.

Khaki QOD:

It tasted just like it did at home fresh ocean.

Khaki QOD:

She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Khaki QOD:

She finished the prawns, despite them making her think of her family, they

Khaki QOD:

were still delicious after all, but now she wished she'd eaten them first.

Khaki QOD:

Shaking.

Khaki QOD:

The memory from her head was about as easy as shaking cobbler's

Khaki QOD:

pegs from her for, but perhaps another round of ham would help.

Khaki QOD:

She also collected a spoonful of each salad.

Khaki QOD:

Like she promised before, returning back to her chair, Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Was waiting for her and held up Linda's Woolworth bag.

Khaki QOD:

Linda chuckled as mine.

Khaki QOD:

Then Y Kay responded, reaching into the bag and pulling out a

Khaki QOD:

gift wrapped in white and gold.

Khaki QOD:

Doesn't have my name on it.

Khaki QOD:

I was going to give that to you later.

Khaki QOD:

Linda snatched the present away, but felt a small grin pulling out her cheeks.

Khaki QOD:

Kay, just laughed now is the perfect time for presence, but she paused

Khaki QOD:

to reach behind her generous.

Khaki QOD:

When her poor came back up, it clutched a swaddle of bright pink paper held in place

Khaki QOD:

with what looked like half a roll of tape.

Khaki QOD:

I think you should go first.

Khaki QOD:

Checking for ants before placing the plate of food on the grass.

Khaki QOD:

Linda took the badly wrapped gift and tore away the paper with her claws inside was

Khaki QOD:

a cardboard box that held a wine glass deep and patterned with a slight twist.

Khaki QOD:

Oh my God.

Khaki QOD:

It's crystal said Linda pulling it out of the box and letting

Khaki QOD:

the sun shine through it.

Khaki QOD:

It's beautiful.

Khaki QOD:

Just like.

Khaki QOD:

Okay.

Khaki QOD:

Set it as a fact confident in certain, . It's a shame.

Khaki QOD:

We don't have any wine to Christen it with.

Khaki QOD:

Oh wait.

Khaki QOD:

We do.

Khaki QOD:

She pulled Linda's bottle out of the bag, cracked it open and started pouring down.

Khaki QOD:

Worry.

Khaki QOD:

I already washed it.

Khaki QOD:

Then she poured herself some into a clear plastic.

Khaki QOD:

Classy said Linda, they touched their glasses and drank Kay twitched her nose.

Khaki QOD:

Mm that's.

Khaki QOD:

Um, Linda started really cheap.

Khaki QOD:

Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Finished with a smile in the left and finished the glass.

Khaki QOD:

Now open yours.

Khaki QOD:

She handed back the neat white and gold colored.

Khaki QOD:

The kangaroo ripped, open the wrapping paper to reveal a plastic container

Khaki QOD:

inside where a dozen biscuits cut and iced to look like kangaroos at these

Khaki QOD:

K glanced up at the kitchen where Linda's other box of biscuits set.

Khaki QOD:

I made these for you first there for you.

Khaki QOD:

And you only said Linda, the other is a leftover dough and a few burnt ones.

Khaki QOD:

He little scam.

Khaki QOD:

Okay.

Khaki QOD:

Pulled her into a hug.

Khaki QOD:

Then they relaxed into their chairs, the Jabber of their

Khaki QOD:

friends drifting over them.

Khaki QOD:

It felt good to take a moment.

Khaki QOD:

These are really good said, Kay, biting a biscuit and half how'd you get the icing.

Khaki QOD:

So straight practice, Linda breathed, a breeze rustled the mango tree.

Khaki QOD:

It wrapped around them like silk slowly beating away the humidity of the day.

Khaki QOD:

Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Finished the.

Khaki QOD:

How you doing Linda, let RSI one of those deep sighs that fills the lungs,

Khaki QOD:

leaving a feeling of satisfaction.

Khaki QOD:

When it all rashes out again, still kind of shaky about mum and dad.

Khaki QOD:

I've no idea how I'm going to deal with that.

Khaki QOD:

Family.

Khaki QOD:

We'll do that to you, I'm finally having a good time today.

Khaki QOD:

I'm glad I came.

Khaki QOD:

I feel a lot better.

Khaki QOD:

K smirked and friends will do that.

Khaki QOD:

Linda's poor drifted to the kangaroos.

Khaki QOD:

Merry Christmas.

Khaki QOD:

Kay.

Khaki QOD:

Merry Christmas, Linda, , Merry Christmas.

Khaki QOD:

This was ham by Killick , read for you by cocky your faithful fireside companion.

Khaki QOD:

You can find more stories on the web@thevoice.dog or find the show

Khaki QOD:

wherever you get your podcasts.

Khaki QOD:

Thank you for listening to the voice of dog.

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

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Khaki