It was a day full of quirky moments, sideways glances, and slippery truths, perfect conditions for a storytelling session themed (loosely, not-so-loosely, or not at all) around fish.

The ‘not at all’ is a cheeky reference to Olga’s opening story with a tale using our last session’s theme of blood red. She went straight into history: Communist China, 1966. A young, red-blooded idealist was inspired by posters in Tiananmen Square that questioned the logic of traffic lights. Why green for go when red is the colour of action and revolution? Common sense finally won out, but only after long and spirited discussion. It was a sharp reminder of how logic, culture, and symbolism don’t always swim in the same school (boom boom).

Which flows us into our next stories.

Vivienne brightened the waters with a visual splash, a memory of bright vinyl bathroom wallpaper from the 60s that was filled with cheerful fish and bubbles. The bubbles didn’t rise the right way after an installation error by an interesting chap but alas, even though mum was disheartened, imperfections can be part of the charm, right?

Next, Sue Khoo cast her line into murkier waters. A colleague, a mysterious large fish gifted to the boss, a hotel fridge stay, and months of unclear fishy business. Cherie took care of it but what really happened next? No one’s quite sure. Something definitely smells like it still needs explaining.

Jill’s contribution reeled in the festive with a witty Christmas in July poem featuring Saint Nick himself.. not to be outdone by Colin Herring. Yes, it seems even in verse, there’s something fishy going on.

Maggie led us to a pond with three goldfish. The first was cautious, the second reflective, and the third, bold and brash. Sadly, it didn’t end well for that one. Perhaps there’s a lesson in pacing oneself in unfamiliar waters.

Then came Isabel, with a story that wasn’t fishy… except in hindsight. A locked bathroom door. A pressed emergency button. An ambulance was cancelled. The fire brigade was called. In the end, she was safely “fished out” with minimal fuss and maximum storytelling value.

Leila shifted the tone to fairy tale: a lily pad kingdom where a snake comes to serve the royal frog couple. “Sit on my back, your majesties,” it hisses, “for a smooth ride.” A story about trust, transformation, and the slippery nature of appearances.

Sue Harris with another tale that “wasn’t fishy” (so she claimed). We journeyed to the Speewah, an iconic place in Australian folklore, home of crooked Mick and impossible legends. The kind of place where the fish are surely this big, and the stories even bigger.

Olga reappeared with a perfectly absurd literary twist: Portuguese Irregular Verbs by Alexander McCall Smith. A satirical look at language, pride, and the very serious business of… well… nothing much. Somewhere in there: a marine biologist, the language of fish, and an invitation to “come, let’s play.” A fishy project indeed.

Finally, Maggie closed the afternoon with a calming guided meditation into a cave, which was a symbolic end to our collective dive into deep, strange, and shimmering waters.

---

We meet again on 16 August. Until then, may your stories swim freely and your nets be full.
Storytellers Australia (SA)