QUIRKY QWERTY 
 C. A. Broadribb

“Quirky qwerty, quirky qwerty,” a bird trills.  “Quirky flirty lurty purty qwerty.”

A b buzzes past u, flying around and around in loops, happy in the morning sunshine.

Buzzy… b… buzz… buzz… b.

“Quirky qwerty, quirky qwerty,” the bird trills again.

It’s a blue j, u realise.  Blue head, blue on its back.  Hopping around.

U lie back in your garden recliner, sipping a cup of t.  It’s lightly spiced chai t, perfect for the occasion.  U watch the b flit from flower to flower amongst the flower bed.

“Quirky lirty nirty qwerty,” the bird trills meaninglessly.

Off in the distance, the c laps gently against the sand.  It’s a peaceful endless blue from this viewpoint.

Your cat K wanders in from the side path and goes to sniff at a rose bush.  She pauses to p underneath the branches.

“Quirky qwerty, qwerty quirky,” the bird trills enthusiastically.

The cat looks at u with one green i.  She loves u.

“O, it’s such a lovely day,” u say.

“O yes, it is,” the cat replies.

U sit up quickly.  Did the cat talk or did u fall asleep for a moment and dream it?

“Y does it bother u?  Relax,” the cat says.

She has a point.  U can join the q of eccentric people.  U lie back and drink more t.

“Quirky qwerty, quirky qwerty,” the bird trills. 

C. A. Broadribb lives in Sydney and writes both fiction and non-fiction. This piece was inspired by a dream.   Return to PUZ Index