FINDING ‘THE VOICE'
Updated: Apr 21, 2020
Where is it?
I looked under the bed.
The monster growled and then whimpered. “Hun Greee.”
Note: remember to get more oats and vegemite.
I went to the wardrobe.
The door to Narnia was closed and a woman was selling tickets. “There’s a discount if you’re a member of the Golden Circle.”
I turned and left.
Note: investigate the Golden Circle. It must be some secret government organisation.
I went to the toilet and lifted the lid.
The whirlpool to the Void whispered. “Nothing in here.”
I flushed the toilet.
Note: the citizens of the Void are liars.
I went to the empty room at the top of the stairs.
“It’s quiet in here,” said the ghost.
The decapitated body on the bed lifted its head from the bedside table and shook it. “Nothing in here.”
I checked the dagger was still firmly in place and left.
Note: don’t hire corpses with a sense of humour.
I went to the glowing door at the other end of the balcony, breathed in, and opened it.
The maelstrom whirled in front of me.
A fairy appeared, fluttering translucent wings. “Nothing in here.”
“Where are the demons?”
“Don’t you know? It’s their day off.”
Note: don’t hire demons that are members of a Union.
I finished searching the house and went out to the garden.
The pixies were too fast and scurried into the bushes.
“Nothing in here,” they trilled.
Note: next time hire pixies that are old and fat.
I walked back to the footpath, found the hose, and washed the muck from the gnome.
“I thought you were going to get rid of that dog,” he growled.
“It’s a stray.”
“Next time it strays near me, I’ll bite its whatsit.”
Note: Make sure the next gnome isn’t so grumpy.
So where do you search for something in this day and age?
The computer screen winked at me.
Of course, the Internet.
I settled down, loaded up the search engine, and typed.
The Voice, Australia. No, not that type of voice. Anyhow, it’s three months old.
You’re the Voice: John Farnham. No, I’ll wait for the next final-comeback tour. (Sorry, Aussie joke there.)
Dami Im sings ‘You’re the Voice. No. Love you, Dami, but I’m not in the mood to listen right now.
New telephone system – VoiP. Nah, I hate phones.
The Voice Gym. I told you I can’t sing.
Seven pages later – nothing. Well, nothing helpful.
Okay, I have to be more specific. I typed ‘The Writer’s Voice’.
I get the picture. It’s really a type of journey.
Well, if you’re silly enough to want to read more about my own journey after all that nonsense, you’ll have to go to my page ‘About Writing’.
Sigh. Back to the keyboard.