JOE AND DIANNE ONESHOTS.

DOUBTFUL AUSSIE.

DIANNES POV:
3:00AM. Known as the twilight hour. This period of time not considered early enough for some to awaken themselves to the world, proven by the dusk mist engulfing even high rise buildings in their smoke; yet still not considered late enough for those that persistently remain behind a screen, chatting the minutes away to those internet personas never whom encountered once before, tapping away their life stories to these little computer screens able to captivate their interests for hours on end. As I lay on my side, numbing my arm beneath by nuzzling my head against the skin, the slight slit in the curtain managed to obtain a glimpse of this desolate world, uninhabited of any life form creating ruckus that would aliven us into the early hours, projecting thin beams of the moon's saffron colouring onto the carpeted flooring. There was a burning desire within me to scrap all lifelong plans, carry over my shoulders those necessary clothes items and escape off late into the night for an exploration of this city's inner crevices of utter beauty yet to be discovered - no pressuring responsibilities, no raging commitments, no mundane worries, just myself and the universe discovering one another layer by layer until we are completely and entirely exposed to nature forces, allowing ourselves to be perceived as we truly, lacking these disguises so accustomed to our everyday lifestyle. The only hints that this world was in fact still ridden with human life were the gentle chest-rising inhales of oxygen, a faint occasional squeak coming from either nose, before a small segment of it was passed out through our lips in a chest-falling exhale as the nocturnal creatures shrieked for their pals lost on a nightly journey. The atmosphere was peaceful, my mind was at rest.

3:10AM. Otherwise known as 10:10AM in Perth, my homeland. The state notorious for its picturesque greenery surrounding these widely inhabited with water-born creature lakes, providing visitors and townsfolk alike with this countyside feel to engulf your heart in a bone-crushing hug driven by the forces of adoration, while proclaiming its status of a prime location for the aging youth that crave this partying lifestyle, their choices endless with the uniform identical night-clubs scattered on a city street managing to easily entice an intoxicated individual into their highly overcharged universe. The most alluring city in the world, in my personal opinion, for any direction your eyes happen to graze, you are witness to yet another successful love story blossoming into something incredibly enthralling - whether that is an accidental collision, or an awkward pairing experiencing those first date jitters, or an elderly couple strolling in the natural beauty, you are a bystander to the idealistic belief of soulmates, a propaganda tactic evident in those blockbuster movies projected onto our movie screens from a young age. The ideal location to raise these miniature versions of yourself with this supposed soulmate, placing them into the centre of a world that inundating with educated individuals appealing to inform of their knowledge and other adolescents pleading to their parents for a friendly face to encounter each day, another human being not stressed by the problems of life like the bills or the mortgage payments, but rather a best friend to enjoy the company of that could possibly evolve into a life-long friendship. This city described was mundane - your typical small town, where nothing bad appears to happens, it is just Australians casually living their lives without a secondary notion for the thoughts of others on their decisions - however these simple tasks were incredibly lacking presence. The chats with my father over random developing in a news package, the help offering to my mother despite her insistence on performing each cookery task solitary, the leisurely frolics along the sandy beach with my niece and nephew on a rotation basis for whichever adult shall supervise. The atmosphere nevertheless maintained its composed still, yet my mind was transported to this interval of my lifetime where this schedule - the chattering, the basking, the munching - was considered a daily routine. The utter sadness to the reality of its closeness to a return yet still just out of my fingertips grasp surfacing suppressed tear droplets into the crevices of my eyes.