‘THE QUEEN’S GONNA pass over Charlie and hand over the Crown to William,’ Chickee said to Buzz. ‘Poor Old Chuck, always on the bench, never in the game.’
Buzz paused to compose himself. They were on a ‘nutrition break’ during a trauma-informed workshop at the healing centre on the rez. Buzz had been happily chowing down on chocolate-dipped strawberries and chugging cucumber water when his cuzzie Chickee, as was her MO, skipped a stone across the placid calm of his day.
‘Where’d you hear that?’ Buzz asked, in the most half-hearted way he could muster. He tried to sound disinterested and polite. It was his only hope of getting through the conversation unscathed.
‘I made it up. Because that bridesmaid-never-a-bride thing is so 1900s.’ Some people on the rez called Chickee a feminist. Some of the old folks called her a women’s libber. She rolled her eyes and shook her head when they... Read more
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