Day Fifty Five
I’m on the bus from the airport. The man in front has really old smelly hair and the woman behind is coughing up on my shoulder. I’m hoping this is not an omen. Welcome to Darwin.
Day Fifty Four
Things you get used to up North:
– hot plastic toilet seats
– the smell of old musty secondhand books when you blot the sweat from your upper lip onto the page that you’re reading
– geckos running across the cinema screen
Today my desk was in an old fashioned, heavy as fuck, diving helmet after I’d realised that pearls and vegetarianism aren’t really compatible. Bugger.
today my desk 