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.
Each near-miss is a reminder that I wouldn’t be so lucky next time. It does make me sad my friends are aging, though we learned all too well that age has little to do with mortality.
My sole ambition in life is to find out what has happened to John Fogerty.
Our flight back to London is delayed by a day, and we battle with a lecturer who threatens to fail us for missing a mandatory class. I don't know where the set-list we collected lives now.
Anthony W Collins Auchenflower, Queensland, 1987 I had enrolled in a subject about American diplomatic history in the 20th century. I needed the subject to complete a Major - and it gave me a Friday off.