The
green sign G tilts slightly on its pole. A few Ks more. Hamburger bags tumble
over dried grass. Crows wark. Galahs, in a pink fit, race across horse fields
to fence wire. Roads, reconditioned and near-immaculate, descend ever so
gradually towards Corio, traffic flat chat. Slow day, but, for the nurses
uptown. Taxis test red lights. The town firebug is hung over. The gallery
show’s called ‘Trial and Error’. Mall music jars. Supermarkets beep like
bellbirds. The city curves around the bay, an “awesome” G, a long G, an
especially sprawly G. It will rain for sure. It’s May.
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