They’d never looked right in Aunt Neti’s parlour anyway. For a moment I can smell scones – I shiver – and then the scent’s gone. It’s just sweat du Steve, and the smell of Charon – the guy still smokes the cheapest cigarettes. And the place doesn’t feel all that threatening anymore. &...
I hear the car just before I see it. An old Holden, V8 by the deep rumble of its engine, thing’s twice the size of most modern cars. It cuts through the traffic as though there isn’t any. Brakes shriek, a car swerves out of the way and into oncoming vehicles. The collision...
Dad used to do this. No turkey, no ham on Christmas Day. Just meat cooked to within millimetres of inedibility and salad. Beer, too, of course. We have a couple of dozen stubbies of Fourex and Tooheys Old swimming in ice in the laundry sink. It’s a pretty grim Christmas. L...
The evening bell starts its tolling. Six slow beats. And the city’s lights are lit. Bright, then brighter, and brighter still. They say a cloud of bats leaves the city when that door opens, comes back when it closes. I race to the balcony and watch, and sure enough there’s...