hiccups

a pleasant walk disturbed by old memories that won’t let me be though it ought to have been long enough by now so once more i suddenly find myself three paces ahead of her ’cause my mind’s busy raging against past injustices instead of enjoying the here and now. later, i stand in the lounge and hear a soft hum from upstairs. i know it’s time for something else »

feel better all over

I surfaced on a side street looking for a late lunch and I seemed the only patron in the pub at this hour I read my book and the music changed from stomping blues to something more intimate ah. the Tindersticks. when I finished I paused a moment to get another phrase or two of the voice of Stuart Staples before opening the door and taking in the afternoon sun. »

stuck in traffic

no sense in a slow afternoon phone call rumbles and trouble rolls in over the western horizon the past is a harsh mistress clinging to our bones screaming tunelessly in the fading evening light travelling north through melbourne-town drops fall inside and out and i start to hope if it rains for a few more days perhaps i can wash it all away. »

sleepwalking

I can kill time. Watch me. People walk down the street like missed opportunities, a hundred stories we’ll never hear. I’m stuck walking with the crowd this time – a change from usual times, and I notice I’m almost the only one making way for people coming in the other direction. Running early, stuck in rain, I grab a quick gin at the Drunken Poet and hear a song over the speakers that sounds, well, Not Quite Right for the surroundings – I thought the language of this place would be, y’know, somehow different. »