The waitress began to fuss over our beautiful dog before telling us us her husband, Mark, played banjo on a song called Bob The Kelpie.
“You know the guy with the biggest PR job in the country has otosclerosis?” I eye him. Bewildered.
Stella slips into half light/silently, beckoning/her twin fussing/on my chest, first, as always
We met for school holiday screenings of La Bamba and Dirty Dancing at the same tech high gym where we painted thick black circles around our eyes and teased our hair until it looked like Jon Bon Jovi’s – ahead of our Rock Eisteddfod pilgrimage to The Royal Melbourne Showgrounds.
Here and now, a deer disappears over the distant mound. Three ducks peacefully paddle, winding their way ahead of the flowing waterfall gently calling me towards the steep terrain of my nightmares.
Over the course of the year Arijana and I saved countless bus fares hitching a ride to uni in the green Volvo, chatting away, distracting the driver who ran the odd red light.