#maranoa

[twitterexile]

AnthonyAlbanese shakes his head as the media asks why he's in Maranoa given it's a safe LNP seat🙄

Meanwhile the local member (Littleproud) left the flood affected electorate to go to a fundraiser.

[twitterexile]

We got to improve education in this country so the populace don't fall for Trumpian disinformation tactics from conservative politicians and Right Wing media.

[twitterexile]

Breaking: Nationals won't re-enter into Coalition agreement

Nationals leader David Littleproud has announced the minor party won't re-enter into a coalition agreement with the Liberal Party, ending a

Nationals leader David Littleproud has announced the minor party won't re-enter into a coalition agreement with the Liberal Party, ending a decades long arrangement.

[poskincare-blog]

We are excited to announce a new stockist for our products in Roma QLD-we will notify the name of the business once they have received their stock next week,this will be great news for our Roma customers! #roma #maranoa #maranoaregion #outbackqld #stockist #greenbeautylover #organicskincare #toxicfree #crueltyfree #leapingbunny #shoplocally #supportlocal (at Roma, Queensland)

[pyromaniacqueen]

Night of the Hunter chapter 2- by Maranoa

The night of the hunter Chapter two The air was heavy and and stale in the room, and Arthur just wanted to jump up from his seat, open all three windows and leave the whole meeting right away. But, of course, he wouldn't do that; he was one of the founders of the popular pub company, and so he just had to tolerate the boring and useless weekly meetings with his four associates.

The five men were sitting at their places at the round table, attempting to find new ways to develop their company. Wasting their time in the other words, in Arthur's opinion. Their meetings were mostly useless; as long as people went to pubs, the only job of the five founders was to share the benefits. Some changes or new tastes in the menu were good to happen once in a while, but trying to force new ideas all the time would just destroy what was already achieved. Arthur was glad that every one of the founders knew that, but what he wasn't content with, were the three older associates' attempts to keep up their image of them running the company, not only be sitting at home and counting the money they got from it. But seriously, if spending the whole fucking day in a stifling room gave those men a feeling of doing something, walking on the street must be a wonderful adventure for them. Arthur glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time, then out of the window. It was almost eleven o'clock, it was dark outside and heavy clouds were covering the night sky, hiding the moon and stars behind their murkiness. The clouds were promising rain, and not a mere drizzle but a real torrential downpour. The Englishman sighed, tapping his foot impatiently. Since he had forgotten his umbrella at home (again, for the queen's sake), he wanted to be at home before the rain. "Gentlemen!" one of the five men finally said, taking his glasses from his nose and polishing them. Arthur looked at him; a tall, sophisticated man, who's thoughts and feelings were always hidden behind the elegant, solemn face. Arthur didn't know much about him; only that he had a mind for business, in which he was very good, and that he was the only non-British person among the associates, being an Austrian. "We have been sitting here for hours; I believe we can end this meeting for today." "I agree with Mr. Edelstein," Arthur was quick to say, noticing a blank glance from the Austrian. "It starts to be quite late already." "Sounds good. Well then, we shall continue working on this matter in the next week's meeting, gentlemen," a middle-aged man, Mr. Shireman, said with a nod. Judging of his associates' relieved faces, Arthur assumed all of them to be eager to leave the stale room as quickly as possible. After polite good-nights and take-cares, Arthur pulled his black coat on and stepped outside on the illuminated streets of London. If he was lucky, he would make it home before the rain started. There were not too many people around as the Englishman walked the streets. Most of people were at their homes at this time, or then sitting in pubs or attending parties or watching theatre plays or then doing whatever they wanted but staying off the streets where the street lights could reach. It was too late to be just wandering around London with innocent intentions and too early to be returning home from pub or parties, therefore most people on the streets were probably on their way either to said activities or then home. Majority of people that Arthur saw were walking in pairs or small groups of three, five people, talking and laughing cheerily. The Englishman sighed as he made his way past these groups to his apartment. Actually he didn't feel like going home just yet. It might be relaxing to pop into a pub for a drink or two after a long day. Arthur slowed down his steps. Indeed, that's what he would do. What would he do at home, anyway? Perhaps read a book and then go to bed, nothing more. Nothing more than the usual. Just as Arthur was wondering in which pub he would go, the skies finally decided to open and release all the water that had been held in for the whole day, save a little drizzle in the morning. The Englishman looked up, letting out a litany or curses and fastening his steps again. Whatever. He would just go straight home; wandering around London in the bloody downpour, searching for the nearest pub that wasn't filled with drunken workers and having a drink in soaked clothes didn't sound appealing enough to be worth the trouble. Looking around, Arthur had to note that there were no available carriages to take him home, so he increased the speed of his steps, feeling the water seeping into his clothes. "Fuck it," he muttered through his gritted teeth. He was living in a country where rain was more rule and definitely not an exception, and yet he had managed to forget his umbrella at home, God knew for how many times already. "Would mister possibly be in the need of a ride?" Arthur stopped, looking sharply in the direction of the playful voice, the derisive tone not going unnoticed. He saw a carriage halting right to the edge of the pavement he was walking on, and looked up to the driver's seat, meeting the blank face of the driver. As he realized that it had not been the driver who had talked to him, Arthur's eyes quickly moved to the small, draped window of the carriage. Not quite recognizing the voice – for sure he knew it from somewhere – he frowned. "Excuse me?" The curtain of the window opened, revealing a condescending smile and a pair of deep, blue eyes looking down at the Englishman. Arthur blinked. That face, it was familiar, he had seen it before, could it- it couldn't... The blue-eyed man in the carriage gave a small chuckle, as the memory of the self-assertive and very seductive Frenchman back from the masquerade in Paris flashed in the Englishman's mind, bringing a stunned expression to his face. But soon the surprised look turned into another frown. What was that man doing in his city? "Ah, I was merely wondering if a ride would do for a gentleman like you, Mr. Kirkland." Again, the man didn't even try to hide the sarcasm in his voice, and under the gaze of those blue eyes that he had previously seen behind a mask, Arthur suddenly became very aware of his already soaked clothes and probably very messy appearance. He winced slightly at the way the Frenchman had said his name; even though the way of addressing was polite, the way it was said in was just as sarcastic as the rest of the sentence. Trying to remember the Frenchman's name, Arthur didn't take a step into a way or another. "How surprising to see you here in London, Mr. Bonn- Bonnefard," he said, hoping the name was remembered correctly. "I recall you being quite ignorant about my city." The smile twitched on amused, elegant face. "Bonnefoy, Francis Bonnefoy. How unexpected of you to remember such a detail of our conversation, especially when you can't even remember my name. However, I figured visiting London would make me appreciate my own city even more." Before Arthur could respond, the Frenchman continued. "Unless, the way you said my name was a mere attempt to pronounce a French name with that British accent of yours." Arthur's hands formed fists on his sides. Fuck that frog, who did he think he was? "I am sorry but did you say something? I heard only frog croaking somewhere near." The elegant eyebrow arched, and an irritatingly haughty smile curved on the smug face of the Frenchman. "So, will you accompany me tonight or would you perhaps prefer walking wherever you were... in the rain?" Water insistently falling on him, Arthur resisted the urge to accept the offer, eager to get out of the cold rain but his pride stopping him. The two horses in front of the carriage shifted impatiently and the driver hushed them. The Frenchman was still waiting, questioningly looking down at the Englishman. A cold breeze blew through Arthur. Fuck it all, fuck it down to the deepest hell. "Where to?" he asked through his gritted teeth, swallowing his pride. "Wherever you wish, Arthur," the Frenchman said, visibly oh so annoyingly amused. Arthur just wished he wasn't higher than him. "Since I don't know this city and what's worth visiting, you tell us where to go. If here even is anything, that is, especially at this time of day." That's it. That's fucking it! How dare that Frenchman, that frog, insult his city like that! His London! Very well. Arthur would accept his offer... No, his challenge. Opening the door of the carriage with a furious movement that made the Frenchman slightly stir, the Englishman climbed in and sat on the seat opposite to Francis. "Why, thank you," he said sweetly, the most polite smile on his lips. "I shall introduce London to you, then. And I assure you, Mr. Bonnefoy, that when you see this gorgeous city, you will lose all your appreciation towards Paris. You'll see that my city has much more to offer than yours ever could, and," Arthur made a small pause. "since we are not among frogs but people here, please try to behave yourself properly." The blue eyes flashed dark light in the dim carriage, and a low chuckle that escaped Francis' lips sent a shiver run up the Englishman's spine. "I see." Francis smiled dangerously, in the same way as he had done at the masquerade in Paris about two, three weeks ago. And just like then, that smile made Arthur's gut wrench momentarily. "I shall accept your challenge then, Arthur." X