The shark

By Adam Gibson ©

(for Gabe)

in 1980 when my sister was 19
she found an old car
with the keys in the ignition
near the bank of the estuary
and she was 19 too
when she left here altogether and
never came back

in the winter of 1984
an east coast low pressure system
destroyed the fleet in their moorings,
smashed the jetty and
flattened half the town in a hail storm
which the weather bureau somehow
forgot to mention might happen

the beaches either side of the inlet
disappeared in one day
and the rocks of the breakwater
became cliffs overnight

that night she called from somewhere
down the coast,
said a woebegone shark
had been washed into
her local swimming pool
at the height of the storm

"get a blanket," i said,
"and pick it up like that."

on the news that night
i saw her and a blue-eyed man
holding the edges of a
dark and wet blanket and
hauling out a small shark
as it gasped for air
before being thrown back in the sea
and swimming away very quickly