GRACE by JEFF BUCKLEY. Story by Chloe Ellen.
Dad stands at the bowser. I sit in the passenger seat. The thrum of petrol is like a bassline.
Dad stands at the bowser. I sit in the passenger seat. The thrum of petrol is like a bassline.
Iām exhausted and out of breath. I donāt even know where I am anymore. Have I missed my stop? I wouldnāt know.
I never learn her name and I never speak to her. I donāt change my tutorial time so that I can be in a tute with her, the way I had done in my American History unit the previous semester with a boy whoād caught my eye in much the same way.
Sam Lawry A greasy diner in St Kilda, February 28 1996 The Mississippi, 1992 The night darkened further and the last patrons stumbled out, smiling, into it. I felt Iād missed something, a wisp or hint of faith.