THE CHASM 

By Tessa Harvey

    Dylan was bent over a coffee table, carefully scooping out a clever design of a kookaburra bird on a gum tree branch. It looked really good. When he finished, he would varnish the table, bringing out the rich dark colour and swirls of the mahogany. A molded glass top would finish the job. One of the other carpenters came to watch.

    "Looks good," he smiled. Dylan was pleased also. The two men had bought into part-ownership of the carpentry shop. Up to now, the work they finished enabled them to continue with the business, but slowly they were making a steady profit. 

    Mike sighed, straightening his back. The men both loved the work, the smell and feel of wood.

    Dylan's phone rang loudly. "Aghh!" he sighed. "Fire duty! Sandra won't be happy. Will you close up, Mike?"

    Sandra saw Dylan's text and was furious. She knew he had to work. They both did. But this volunteer fire stuff was ridiculous. She felt she deserved a little of his actual presence. They were supposed to be a couple after all.

    Angrily, she answered with a harsh sentence, then tried to call.

    He didn't pick up. Sandra threw the phone at the wall. It skidded down the cream paint and fell onto the carpet, an ugly beige and green colour. There was a faint impact mark on the wall, but the phone was unhurt.

    Fine! She decided to text some friends, then headed off to see if Brodie had any time for her.

    He did, and they met at the local pub. Brodie looked tousled and tired. "Come on," he said, "you have to choose. It's either me or Dylan. OK?"