It’s been months since my last blog post. But I only ever did 3 so I never really got started, interesting (to me and nobody else I’m sure) I started writing these last year in lockdown and after moving to Sydney late last year, here I am 3 weeks into this lockdown thinking, I should probably do a blog post. I’m not sure exactly what to write about yet, I’ve started about 4 different posts so instead I thought I’d share this short story I wrote a few weeks ago for a writers group I’m in and next week I’ll be back with a blog post about either: all the dogs I’ve loved, Lava plains, or something about my hopeful success or potential failure on wooing the rainbow lorikeets in my street. Hope you like my little story.


I’m shocked awake and alert by some harsh noise. My body is being bounced around, the sensation is similar to the feeling of being the egg while playing ‘crack the egg’ on the trampoline. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I can just make out the shape of mum jumping up and down on my bed. “Muuuum….what are you doing?....I’m trying to sleep...stop jumping” I mumble. Nothing, she just keeps jumping “STOP JUMPING” I pull myself out of bed to go and get dad, hopefully he’ll be able to handle this whole palava. I walk down the hallway, wary of any evil beings that could be coming for me. My Grandad was watching the Terminator a few weeks ago and he let me watch it with him and I’m pretty sure my baby sisters are little robots. At night I picture myself walking down the hallway and their door opens and their little red beam eyes cut me in half. Must get to dad, mustn’t think about robot sisters.

Dad is asleep in bed and mum is sound asleep beside him.


Edward was a taxi driver in Tully, there were only 2 taxi drivers in town when he was the king of the taxis. This was the 40’s, not many people in Tully had cars yet, Edward knew everyone in town and spent his days helping people get to and from friends houses and running errands.. Edward loved Birds, his favourite bird was Henry, a large Galah who would sit on the roof of the rival Taxi drivers car and screech “EDWARD MARONEYSSS TAXISS, EDWARD MARONNEEEYYS TAXISS YOUUU WONT FINDD A BETTTTTTER TAXIIIII”.

Bill, who'd had his roof scratched up by the bird, didn't think this was as charming as everyone else in Tully. Sometimes Bill would reach the end of his tether and threaten to kill the bird and Edward would let Henry sit in the front seat while he drove him home to safety.


“I don’t understand what her obsession is with the name Edward, she wanted to call her motorbike Edward, and the puppy, and her barbies, it’s Edward this, Edward that! It’s driving me skitzo”

I listen from the shadows of the hallway, Mum is venting to Dad, Nanna and Grandad.. My Grandad is standing with a beer in one hand and his other hand is in some weird claw shape he always makes so that his hand that’s resting on his hip doesn’t look feminine. It looks painful.

Grandad points his beer hand at mum and says “Is it hurting you?” Mum responds “No, but it’s very odd, she keeps saying a man comes at night to visit her, I never hear anything from her room but I’m worried” “What are you worried about?” Grandad asks “She thinks theres a peadophile who sneaks in the house and that Danielle loves the peadophile” says Dad


I sit on Edward, my little metal excavator in the sand pit. I really have to move the sand from one side to the other side before lunch, so that I can move it all back after lunch. It’s sweaty work, one bucket at a time.

At lunch Nanna sits me down to have a chat, she asks why I name everything Edward. So I tell her.

I tell her there’s a man who comes into my room at night, that when he comes he tells me jokes and stories, that he plays me the harmonica, that he sings for me, that his name is Edward, and that he looks a lot like mum.

My Nanna cries. She tells me that when she was little, her dad was a taxi driver and used to work really long hours. When he got home he’d wake her up to sing and play the harmonica with her, he’d tell her all the jokes and stories his passengers had told him that day, that my mum looked a lot like him, and that his name was Edward.

I give Nanna a hug because she was crying a lot.

“Well I better get back to the sandpit, the sand isn’t gonna excavate itself”

We’re not really a share your feelings family.


Mums new partner (of 10 years) Noel doesn’t believe in ghosts, I tell him I have a story. It’s been over 20 years since I last saw Edward but I remember the visits clearly. Mum also tells Noel that Nanna never speaks about her family because they died young and it makes her sad, that until I talked about Edward even mum had never heard about him so I couldn’t have gotten information anywhere and made it up.

Noel says “Yeah that’s interesting because usually when people have a ghost story it’s like a scary or creepy thing, but yours is just nice which I think makes more sense, like I don’t understand why a random person you don’t know would haunt you”

Mum tells Noel she also saw the Ghost of our dog Andre sitting on his grave one day while she was cooking dinner.

I don’t know if we changed Noels mind.