Nail Diamond (author only)

Taking a chance in business is a risk.  

Abba said ‘Take a, take a, take a, take a chance on me.”

Not many people took advantage of that everyday winning phrase which is now embedded in popular culture. 

Taking a chance with a family member is completely another story. It can be fraught with conflict and disaster which is why lots of families choose not to go there. 

Beth and her younger, much shorter sister, Antonia agreed to take a chance in business after three bottles of wine on a cold winter’s night.  Both wanted an option to get out of their current working lives which sustained someone else’s future.  

Beth’s daily life as a senior Public Relations Executive for a local chocolate company is not as sweet as it sounds. 

Antonia spends each day as a teacher’s assistant at a special needs school towards the northern end of the motorway. They both own property in the central city.  Beth has a third-floor apartment looking out over the sea.  Antonia has a two-bedroom unit with a small backyard.

The sisters burst into song, arms around each other’s shoulders halfway through their fourth bottle of cheap local bubbly. Beth’s 3rd floor apartment deck is helping with its outstanding view of the city. It was their second night together trying to sort out what they had agreed on earlier in the year. 

“Sweet Caroline,




Good times never seemed so good.”

“We open this new journey in our lives tomorrow,” warbled Antonia to her nine-year older, bossier, taller sister. 

“We’ll make this work little sis,” Beth casually replied while patting her on the head. 

Antonia whipped Beth’s right hand off her freshly cut hairdo. 

‘Stop patting me like a dog.  Get your hand off me, Missus Lady!” Antonia shouted out. 

“Ohhhh…. testy!” came back an even quicker reply.  

“The world will never know what hit it when NAILDIAMOND opens its shiny aluminium sliding front doors,” chortled Antonia.  

“I’m loving that new name.  It works much better than

 pedicures-r-us. That was just dumb,” Beth sloppily replies as her hand quickly covered her glossily lipsticked mouth.  It was too late.  She runs into the newly-finished, state of the art kitchen, puts her well-coiffed head into the sink and vomits like it’s her last meal.  

Antonia grabs the closest imported Italian tea towel, holds Beth’s head while wiping the residue from the corners of her mouth. 

“Bed now darling.  My spare room is already made up,” whispers Antonia while helping the older version of herself stand on her two shaky feet. 

‘Excellent,” replies Beth with both of her arms clinging to Antonia’s narrow shoulders. 

“I love bed,” whispers Beth as her caring sister tucks her in while putting a bucket and a glass of water by the side cabinet. 

“Sleep tight darling. Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” says Antonia turning off the light as she leaves. 

Beth is completely passed out under the freshly laundered, perfumed duvet.




Fab stuff, Ken. This is so you and a terrific opportunity for us Minters to read and enjoy your unique blend of dry humour and in vogue dialogue. I am looking forward to following this.