"Yeah," I reply, and my yeah has that whole yeah-but-if-it's-bad-I'm-not-him-and-shi
"I got a package for you," he tells me, holding up this ugly brown envelope. "It was delivered to my neighbour's house on Friday, but they're away for Christmas... Anyway, I figured this might be something for Christmas, y'know? I couldn't bring it down, but yeah--"
Clearly, he's bothered by the fact that I'm not wearing pants, too.
At any rate, he gave me the package and took off, and I was most thankful, well, as thankful as was dignified, because he lived on the other side of the suburb that I do, and had, in fact, driven down to drop off this package, which I thought was pretty kind. Personally, I don't know if I would be that kind--I might be tempted to open packages that arrive on my absent neighbours doorsteps by strangers, though I should point out that if this happens, I will in fact get in my car and drive to this person's place, now. Wearing pants, because the world did me a favour and I will return it.
At any rate, in the package was the remaining Aurealis Award nominated fiction for the science fiction, fantasy, and horror selections. Lea Greenaway did the kind thing and sent them down, but sadly, spelt the street name wrong (just reversed a letter) and it ended up on a street whose only spelling similarity to mine was that it started with the same first letter. But that means, in fact, that I have the new Aurealis before it has been released to the public. I know, I know, it's kind of ridiculous that a magazine not yet released can have stories nominated for a 2005 award. I know.
Aurealis #36, however, marks the arrival of the new editorial team of Ben Payne
Neat.