Everywhere you go, it’s Norah Jones on the CD player. The new Moby, I suppose. This café has a nice long map of all the restaurants and caés along Sydney Road, in a pile amongst other local promo material. I took one, but later that evening I donated it to a friend of a friend, for the Greater Good, you understand. »
We’re driving north and she’s trying to tell me something, but in a roundabout way. I’m distracted by a low-flying 747 crossing the sky to the west. For a small moment, it’s hard to feel like I understand anything. »
“He looks ok,” a co-worker said later after I showed him my photos, “not half-dead or anything.” »
Note to self: when stomach is better, come back to Gluttony: It’s a Sin and have some cake. »
This sickness is getting to me. My head can’t cope with the headline “Top 20 Number 1 Hits” in the free newspaper somebody’s reading on the tram near me. It’s all too much. »