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.