In Which Two Young Ladies Purchase Marijuana for the First Time

A totally fiction short story not at all based on fact. No siree, Bob

Original 1990s platform Sketchers. Photo from author’s private collection.

Ren drove her dad’s old Valiant with the window down and the seat back. Cigarette dangling from a hand dangling out the window. Knees gripped a can of VB.

Ren’d been off her Ps one week, and thought she was possibly the coolest girl in Melbourne. The radio didn’t tune properly, but she’d turned it up full volume and let Triple J crackle out across the streets of Fitzroy. “Fools Gold” was playing.

Not possibly the coolest girl in Melbourne. Definitely.

Ro sat in the passenger seat. VB in her left hand, Melway on her lap. “Hey, we’re almost there. Turn right here.”

Ren tugged at the steering wheel. Slowly the Val drifted right. It was a car meant to be driven slowly, cruising like a sexy summer day. So different from those bogans who blasted shit techno while parading their cobalt blue Skylines down Chapel Street.

Ren and Ro nodded their heads in time to the Stone Roses’ wah-wah guitar, squinting into a sun that was almost on the horizon.

“Number 12. Stop here.” Ro stuck her head out the car window. “Looks derro.”