Nothing about the bustling waterfront around me suggested 1844. The wooden sailing ships that had once relied upon wind, tide and stars were gone. Engines, radio and radar belonged to a future beyond imagination.
Category: Such is Life
In Pursuit of Oz: Lost in the Bush
Step inside and look up, and you’ll find a waterfall dropping through a perfect hole in the ceiling — like the mountain quietly decided to let a little daylight in.
In Pursuit of Oz: All Quiet on the Gold Coast
Despite being one of Australia’s best-known tourist precincts, the atmosphere felt remarkably restrained. Nobody appeared particularly interested in impressing anyone else. People walked, cycled, surfed, lingered, watched the ocean, or simply occupied themselves with the agreeable business of doing very little.
In Pursuit of Oz: Along the Great Ocean Road
Armed with a 7-Eleven umbrella, she soon discovered that the local winds regarded umbrellas as little more than suggestions. After a brief but unequal struggle, the contraption inverted itself with remarkable efficiency, possibly as a precaution against its owner being carried off like a reluctant paratrooper.
In Pursuit of Oz: The Spirits of Melbourne
I had watched Spider-Man swing between skyscrapers often enough. I had simply never expected to audition for the role myself.
In Pursuit of Oz: Temporary Melburnians
Crossing the road from Flinders Street, we stepped into Federation Square. It is arguably Melbourne’s principal public space and, quite possibly, a declaration of war against the straight line. If Flinders Street Station belongs to the age of clocks, domes, and punctual railway ambitions, Federation Square appears to have been designed by a committee of highly gifted triangles.
In Pursuit of Oz: The Hong Kong Surprise
The young woman attempted an explanation in English. Unfortunately, the circumstances required a language altogether different. The more she explained, the less I understood, and the less I understood, the more elaborate my objections became.
From the Diary of a Covid Positive Fugitive
It was on the Saturday the 24th of October, 2020, with the three days’ holiday in its infancy, that I dozed off with a mild ache pulsing through my meagre frame, right after the morning bout of toast and ginger-chai.…
Exit the Ghost of Blogger
Confined to the peripheries of my home, looking out the window at a mysteriously pink moon rising day after day, I have of late been forced to cogitate on the wonders of being alive, the hump in the lawn not…
Mind Lies like a Mango
Yes, I have descended to filching from weird quotes of indeterminate, ambivalent origin and intent. True, I have faltered, faded, fumbled and stumbled into that eternal bin. The crispy tang of the green fruit before ripening into succulence has mellowed…
In Which Leia Doesn’t Eat the Ice Cream
(Further to Bruno's Story) It seems I have troubled your heart, but it is a tale recount I must. So that next time you see a dog pup scrapping the bins for crumbs, you don’t wince in disgust. And when…
Bruno’s Story
At the end of long nights birds chirped and squawked, squirrels chattered their heads out. The wind rose and fell and the tall trees whispered. Footsteps swelled and footsteps receded. Footsteps stopped and guffawed and came to peep inside our home. Footsteps cackled.
One Grain Amongst the Storm 