D.C. by DIED PRETTY. Story by Kate Foulds
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.
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.
I was like another brother to Jessica. She fancied my band mates more than me, so that was bit of a drag. We did share a love for one particular song, though.
Hugh Jones Launceston, 1980 From about 10 houses down the street I heard Wrighteeās stereo doing overtime. The windows were wide open and tops were off the beer bottles. A voice with all the class of a freight train crossing points was screaming through the screen door.
Stephen Andrew Student hostel, West Geelong 1982 I didnāt get a Mohawk, nor cut up and safety pin my clothes. I kept my phlegm to myself. I was a part-time punk.
Aimee Knight Mary St / Electric Avenue / Wuthering Heights, Adelaide, 2012 ā 2014 A proverbial banshee was born this morn and for her, we re-dub this oft-cursed cottage āWuthering Heightsā.