Bank Redemption Day - late afternoon (Zero Hour + six), Sydney Australia.
Midnight Owl smiled and stretched out across her bed, her ebony skin glowing against her favourite gold silk sheets and the tousled and discarded jade green bed spread. She was still tingling inside from their lovemaking and she rolled over to look out her window and reveled in the moisture coating her inner thighs.
He was such a good fuck! … and a gorgeous bloke to boot! Massimo Quollwood. What a name, what a hunk! His father was a second generation Italian-Australian and had married outside their tradition, and to a Wiradjuri woman at that. Massimo had had to leave just after noon, work and such. He’d kissed her and left her to sleep.
Owl traced a hand over her belly remembering his touch. He had golden skin, shoulder length black hair he wore braided or as a topknot, and a smile that made the tingle inside her demand more. ... and more as she thought of him. … and she had thought of him a lot since first seeing him that night she'd told poor old Tony to get a soul.
They had met the next day just after she’d been interviewed by the police regarding Tony’s suicide. Poor lonely bastard he’d been, but she still had no pity for Tony. He’d treated all the women she knew terribly and what ever had happened in his childhood to screw him up wasn’t her responsibility. Nor was she an avenging angel for the sister hood, but she didn’t take shit from anyone!
Her Maori dad had taught her that and her Guringai mother had given her the women’s knowledge of how to always be strong inside no matter what the world was throwing at you. Between the two of them she’d learnt to stand strong and speak her mind from an early age. … and then she’d put those words to music. Now she tore open peoples hearts with her songs, helped them throw away everything that was unwanted and restore their hearts to purity. Well at least that’s what her fam’ told her she did! Owl just loved singing!
Owl stood and stretched languidly in front of her view of Sydney Harbour. She clenched herself tight so she wouldn’t loose any more of their combined love juices and floated out to her kitchen. She stood with her thighs held close as she cut herself a mango and some strawberries, then added brazil and cashew nuts to the plate. Thoroughly intoxicated with afterglow she made her way to her balcony.
Owl slipped on her favourite house kimono and seated herself cross legged on the pile of pillows on her meditation platform. The afternoon sea breeze played with her hair and she threw head back and breathed in the air of one her best days ever!
She was halfway through a strawberry cashew nut taste sensation when her phone buzzed on the balcony table beside her. Owl recognised Quoll’s number and she shivered with excitement. “Gidday Gorgeous, have you heard the news?”
“What, that you’re the best fuck a girls had in her lifetime,” she said matter of factly to throw him completely off guard. “Arh, that’s old news!” he said cheekily, “nah girl, the stuff on the banks, they’re all fucked!”
“Shit, what our money’s gone?” she asked as she stood and ran back inside to thumb on her wall tv with her phone app.
“Nah, we’re good, they’re fucked! Remember that slime turd that you told off well he was just the first to neck em selves! Go to News 24, they’re up now with it!” Quoll waited while she found the ABC and watched the rest of the bulletin. “Oh, my, ….”
“Quoll you beautiful gorgeous man, gotta ring me mum, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Owl thumbed her mum’s number and waited. Her dad answered and Owl burst into tears at his rich baritone voice that stroked the cares and woes out of her soul every time she heard it!
“Ohh me giirl, wu’ve gut all your muum’s sahvin’s beck!” … and then her mum was on the phone and Owl heard the whole story. How she’d got a phone call from a cousin in Jervis Bay and then checked her account and actually saw the numbers change in front of her eyes. It was all over the TV, everywhere!
… and then they were crying together and shouting and crying and then her elder sister was on the phone and they were crying and shouting!
“Look, just tell mum I’m so happy. I gotta get ready for work now. Tell dad I’ll sing the roof off tonight, and we’ll record those songs together now he’s happy again! Yeah, luv yah sis!”
Owl thumbed off the call and just stood staring at the news. There was no crashing of the banks and financial systems. No collapse of the world as we know it. Just all lost moneys redeemed. The ABC finance commentator was not his eloquent best and stammered a little as he brought up a graph showing bank profit and loss and how they were all still profitable, and so was everyone else.
Owl started. She suddenly remembered she was singing for some financial conference tonight. Sydney had become a centre for finance and trade organisations and what was tonight, the Indo-Pacific Free Trade Association or something or other. Could be a lot of glum faces there tonight.
She thumbed Quoll’s number and texted him. Pick me up at 11. I want them to see me with you!