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Glen Donaldson (AUSTRALIA)


Wizened Henry Mallick had come to realize the trouble with retirement was you never got a day off. Since finishing up his job as a career locomotive train driver the day he turned sixty-five, he’d taken up position in the comfortable, well-worn and floral-upholstered recliner, and joined the land of the dinosaurs that shuffled the Earth. Where once he’d been surrounded by all the paraphernalia and status of a busy working family man, now there were only scrapbook memories, lack of a daily schedule and reminders of the much barer landscape he’d inherited. “Hello pension – Goodbye tension” read the peeling-at-the-edges bumper sticker on the back of Henry’s car. Life had slowed to a more sedate pace and ‘quality time’ was the bright-sided, catchphrase-sounding order of the day. Though he was, according to his two adult daughters – both of whom were too busy to visit – a bona-fide ‘gentleman…