Written collaboratively by the attendees of the launch of Influence.
An ibis was sitting in the still-wet grass. The ibis glanced over longingly at the hoards of people trampling over each other as they rushed down Main Walkway. The ibis decided to walk up Main Walkway past the Socialists, as that was an empty corridor through which to pass. However, the ibis then spotted some delicious halal snack pack in the bin next to the lawn. The ibis eyed a poor Arts student lying on the Library lawn, with an HSP – so why not have the fresh one? The ibis, seized by desire like Paris gazing upon Helen of Troy, swooped down beside the student.
But the ibis knew it was being watched. On the top floor of the library, footsteps could be heard. The Anti-Ibis Society were gathering on the top floor of the library, with binoculars, to hunt down all the ibises they could see. The ibis had encountered this bunch of people before, and knew it was time to flee, while fleeing was good. The Anti-Ibis Society started chanting, chanting ‘go back to where you came from!’
The ibis was confused, but it accepted the challenge.
And so the ibis took flight, away from our beloved University, towards the white sands of Coogee Beach. Once they arrived at Coogee Beach, they like their namesake ‘bin chickens’, returned to live in all the bins, until the bins were so full of ibis, that there was no more room for the rubbish.
When this happened, it seemed pretty obvious that every single trash collector should be replaced by an ibis. Yet the ibis exterminators appeared in Coogee again.
Before the exterminators could bare down upon the ibises, a group of policemen fined everyone 1600 dollars, for violating social distancing laws. And in this, brought an end to the Anti-Ibis Society, and also to climate change. They dealt with all the rubbish, and when it comes down to it, when the ibis faces the police, the ibis will always win.
#managingeditorapproved