Tomorrow
Category C: Highly Commended (2026) Monash Short Story Writing Competition
Author: Mary-Jane Boughen
It was a winter’s day in 1964 when they moved in. It was a quiet cul de sac in a new suburb, “a court” they’d call it now,” thought Max dismissively.
It was pouring, and Moya fumbled with the umbrella as they laughed and skipped from the borrowed car to the front door, nearly tripping on the rocks which lay strewn in the yard.
Max lifted Moya easily and carried her over the threshold put her down and they waltzed down the empty hallway. Max counted his steps, measuring the beats, lest he lose count.
They had little furniture but made do. Packing crates were perfect for a coffee table, as well as a bookshelf. They did of course, have Moya’s pride and joy, the family pianola she had inherited from her grandmother. The boys, her brothers, had had no interest in the “white elephant.” Moya could play like a concert pianist, and even Max liked putting in an old roll and pushing the pedals and pretending every so often.
Moya made cushions, the curtains, and her own clothes, and started to knit right away; so keen were they for a little one to complete the family.
As the years went by, the sound of clicking needles wasn’t heard so often, and though they both shed a tear that it wasn’t to be, they were happy with each other.
Max worked hard to provide, Moya bottled fruit and kept the place spin and span.
Every day when he entered the house, he would kiss her forehead and put his arms in the dance pose, and they’d waltz down the hallway.
The day Moya couldn’t get up to waltz, they both knew something was wrong.
He’d always said he wanted to go first, so he wouldn’t be alone. Moya used to laugh and scold him, “don’t worry about tomorrow Maxwell!”
As he sat on the verandah, he watched a people mover back into the driveway next door and a young couple get out. The woman unbuckled a young child from her car seat, and the man carried a baby capsule to the door.
The little girl clung on to a red balloon in one hand and a well-loved bear in the other.
She counted the steps to the front door, then halted, and turned around and went to the fence.
Using the teddy bear’s arm, she waved to Max, and said “Hello, this is Nellie, the bear, we are moving in.”
“Why hello Nellie,” said Max.
“She’s only a stuffed toy, she can’t talk. I can though cos I’m four and a half, and I’m Gracie.”
Max smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Gracie.”
“Did you know I’m going to be a ballerina when I grow up?” explained Gracie.
“Well, now I do,” smiled Max.
“Can you dance?” asked Gracie.
“I used to,” replied Max.
“I can teach you some steps if you like,” offered Gracie generously, “Maybe tomorrow?”
Max smiled, “yes, maybe tomorrow.”