Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Australia St And Chilled White Wine

Last night, 10pm, past corrugated fences barely visible under potato jasmine. Past the stencil art alien, pain splatters on the footpath, fresh-faced girls with bobbed hair and summer frocks, ballet slippers and bare legs walk with boys with long tresses and gym boots. Past the room where I first dabbled with a girl, past the Courthouse full of cold beer memories in the garden, past couples walking their scruffy dogs or holding each other up as they stumble along after too many chardonneys. Its good to be home.

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