May You Find What You Are Looking For

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At first glance, it looks like a friendly statement, but those who have discovered the horror of reaching their goal, finding what they are looking for, will tell you otherwise.

Humans were never meant to be happy, not in that way. We are programmed to be constantly searching for something.

Give us contentment, and we fade away — and not always gently.

And so it was with Jeff.

I never liked him much, but I doubt that it kept him awake at night.

He was the kind of bloke who was worried about fuel economy — he’d drive over you rather than around you to get where he was going.

I’d planned his demise, but I was only surmising.

Someone was a little more serious than I.

You would need a toilet roll to list all the probable suspects, and I guess I’d be on that list, somewhere.

He was found under the hood of a stolen car, parked on the verge of the main highway leading to Sydney.

It didn’t stretch anyone’s imagination to guess that it was a woman who flagged him down.

Someone had brought the hood down several times on the lecherous Jeff and left him there to be found.

As people drove by, it looked like he was working on the engine, but in reality, he had died when the force of the first blow drove the dipstick up his nose, which was a coincidence because one of the things that people called him when he was alive, was dipstick.

In his prime, Jeff might have seen it coming, but he had achieved all he set out to achieve, so his guard was down.

The crime remains unsolved — the killer wore gloves, just as a woman might do, and not attract attention.

The Friends Of Jeff, meet at the Pale Horse pub on Williams Street, once a month. Anyone who was screwed over by Jeff when he was alive is instantly admitted.

Over a beer, or two, we discuss how we were wounded by the ambition of Jeff and then later, after the amber fluid has done its work, we discuss which one of us might have done it.

Some of the more fanciful theories include the Queen who was in Melbourne at the time, but the evidence is thin on the ground — something about Jeff being responsible for the untimely death of a bunch of corgis. Possibly the SAS was involved, but I don’t think they have female SAS. Maybe one of their girlfriends helped out. 

I’m not convinced.

Of the three ancient Chinese curses,  May You Live In Interesting Times, May You Come To The Attention Of Someone In Authority, and May You Find What You Are Looking For, the last one strikes me as the most potent.

I believe that Jeff would agree with me. 

5 thoughts on “May You Find What You Are Looking For

  1. I would say the ending of this piece grips me more than the beginning. The beginning is just so general… but the ending and this talk of Chinese curses, that’s gripping.

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  2. ooo, I like it, every level – can see a Martha Grimes pastiche here, “The Pale Horse,” with the Jeff Alumni drinking & arguing & quipping & figuring out (a) who really did kill all those corgis, and (b) who knocked off Jeff — my money for (b) is on one last vengeful corgi, nasty little brutes that they are

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