I like the way tram tracks double-underline the buildings passing by: Florentino, White Tomato, Target, David Jones. The way arrows infiltrate laneways and ground floors, indicating stories outside material grid. The way lampposts and traffic lights are pilcrows where we start filling in blocks of personal paragraph. The way pedestrians are anonymous and free of our window-frame definitions. The way on every footpath the full story continues, turn left or right, on page 16. The way February weather is one big question-mark. The way Nicholson Street turning into Bourke and Bourke into Spencer bracket lives inserted into one restless narrative.