I’m waiting for the tram, at the junction. Waiting where the streets cross, and the lights change, and the cars stop and go in regular patterns, repeating over and over. Passengers stare and I stare back, like we’re sizing each other up. My tram’s late, so I have to keep waiting. And all the time more cars in streams of colour. Different colours, but they look the same. They might as well all be grey. Where’s everybody going? Why am I the only one waiting for a tram? Just now, somebody else arrived at the stop. Another. He stood behind … Continue reading WAITING

Junction – part I

‘What do you think I’m looking for, Steven?’ she said. She turned to face him. ‘Do you think I’ll find it spending my nights at Junk? Don’t worry, I’m just thinking out loud. Unless you have any answers.’ He said nothing. ‘Let’s go and get some air,’ she said, and in a few minutes she was standing at his room door, lipsticked, checking the weather on her phone. They walked towards St Kilda Junction. It was one of her favourite parts of the city, she said. It reminded her of ‘that painting’ of the Cahill Expressway, which haunted her whenever … Continue reading Junction – part I