December 1967 School Magazine

'Brisbane Girls' Grammar School Magazlne

Brlsbane Girls' G,,rammar School Magazine

December, 1967

December, lgtl

Out of the corner of her ey€, she noticed a grey car an old model station wagon. It was speeding down the potholed sffeet. "\Well above speed limit, you stupid fool!" she thought carelessly, "Xfon't get here before I reach ihe other side, though." She dropped a parcel, and bent down to pick it up. She glanced up to see that the grey car was too close for safeiy and grabbed again for the parcel. She was pemified! \fhat shall I d; now? Stop?l leave thg, parcel?! go back? Can't leave the parcel; that cost me four dollars! Have to stop he'll just miss rne. 'Whv won't that,car stop? Her eyes opened with-fear; her face *.ni white, her body stiff, waiting to 6e smuck. Brakes screech. The girl awoke from her stupor and began to run cars coming other way. Trapped, what can I do ? There's no escape. Keep going: ignot. - those brakes; quickl Shouts! Two cars, one girl between, hunted! and hundreds of staring, homified eyes, anticipating the collision. 4 Piercing scream as the cars met, and gasps of homor. Parcels flew everywhere, there was a metallic to,rnd- of something dropping and slamming doors, and a rush of feet. The girl Lui crurnpled in a pool of blood - she clutched a parcel. There *ut the wail of the ambulance and police car sirens; a quick check, and !h. girl was rushed to hospital. The police asked questions, the drivers spoke quickly - p" zzledl The staring eyes of the onlookers saw, failed to comprehend; sorne sa'w the money that had escaped from the purse on impact, and a few people dazedly pick up the coins and her belongings as the ambulance siren died away in the distance and the shoiked crowd gradually dwindled, The girl seemed hunted bv two cars a modern invention and convenience and taken from the scene of capture in another 9at, to a place where she could possibly be sa,r.d from death bv hurnans and other modern inventions another modern con- venience. Girl, hunted, ...Iost. .. _ RACHEL CALLAGHAN, VIA, GIBSON HOUSE T'TilOUGTITS ON LEAVING I cnme, I did not knout The feelings that uould grow, inside, And oaercome me As I went - K.H., VIB

Well girls or are we guys. We think our drag is too much in our so' in hot pink patent shoes and our orange poor boy sweaters, Ianky trouser suits and dazzling ctrt-in mini dresses, our short short or long straight hair and those shades! but what would great gran-ma think - would she recognize us as girls? you might say "I know it", but take a look through her eyes one Saturday in town, perhaps we can learn a little from her, how to look like real live girls.

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