Monthly Archives: August 2013

The Ruins

We are some time and some distance from here. We are in the Future. We are in Fremantle. We are in the ruins of Old Fremantle. We are almost completely alone. There is nothing that moves here.

This was a Port. That is the word which was used. Port. It was Latin once, then it was English, a shape made by mouths while there were still mouths to make shapes. It held a meaning. It signified that there were lives here and they were fed by great ships which came from over the horizon. It signified that the water was deep. Words held a great many meanings and something as small as “Port” stood for a beehive, rumbling through the day and glowing and buzzing through the night, propelled by hundreds of lives. Now we are almost completely alone.

We are almost completely alone. However, there is a boy. He lives in the ruins of Old Fremantle. He has been seen walking around. He has been seen with a stout walking stick. He is about the same age as you, only somewhat younger.

There is also a girl who lives in the ruins of Old Fremantle. The boy and the girl have both lived in the ruins for quite some time. Luckily one day they met and they slowly became friends. The boy has a soft cap with a metal flower which the girl gave him. The edge of the flower is jagged which is a useful reminder to be careful.

One day it starts snowing, which is unusual for Fremantle. The snow is also unusual: it is a sort of chemical foam. There is some half-functioning factory nearby, perhaps. The foam floats on the river and coats the bank at low tide. When it falls on the girl her scalp becomes itchy and red and it spreads to her face. The boy has thick hair so he gives the girl his cap so that her head is protected. The flower reminds her to be careful.

The boy and the girl live together in a cargo container which is one in a stack of hundreds of cargo containers. There is one important difference between it and the other containers; it is a home. The boy and girl have collected only the nicest rubbish for their container. They have a broken table, some pillows, a wonderful pile of old newspapers, and a tea set.

When it is not snowing they have a favourite place. It is a playground which is made out of broken cars and cranes and pieces of machines. When they found it, there was nothing but junk, so they had to gradually remake it themselves. For example one day the girl said “Look, this old car is actually a cave!” and they quickly ran into the cave. Then another day the boy said “Look, this crane is actually a slide!” and they quickly climbed up the ladder and slid down the long yellow arm.

The boy and the girl are quite happy together in the ruins of Old Fremantle, although they are completely alone,