I’m exhausted and out of breath. I don’t even know where I am anymore. Have I missed my stop? I wouldn’t know.
I never learn her name and I never speak to her. I don’t 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 who’d 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 I’d missed something, a wisp or hint of faith.