They stood at the end of the tobacco row, just beyond where the north end of the field met the woods. They stood in the shadows, perfectly still, watching only her. They reminded her of deer: thin ... [+]
Gillian O’Shaughnessy is a journalist with ABC Radio Perth. She was a finalist in the Bath Flash Fiction Award and the London Independent Story Prize. She lives in Fremantle. "Crash Landing at Elizabeth Quay" is part of Short Édition's series, The Current.
I arrive at the bus stop heading for work and see the moon has fallen from the sky and is resting in a crater where the Bell Tower used to be. I'm struck by how unimpressive it looks close up, beige and lumpy, like old porridge. "Nothing special," I mutter out of the corner of my mouth to a man clutching a briefcase nearby. "Pardon?" he seems startled. "THE MOON," I say more loudly. Perhaps he's hard of hearing. I smile reassuringly and gesture towards it, "NOTHING SPECIAL IS IT? NOT VERY "SILVERY?" I make the air quotes. He looks over his shoulder in the way people do when they think