…of the letters between M and I.
8 December. S : This is all good stuff and feels less worthy of examination through words than the bad, hard stuff. How unfair is that?
8 December. M: They are four women from Melbs. here to celebrate two of their 60th birthdays, all completely deaf with the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen.
9 December S: This kind of unsolicited contact feels somewhat like a home invasion to me. That is, if my head is my home (which I think it is)…
9 December. M: I have also met a soul of gold here who I might ask to teach me to fly planes.
10 December. S: It’s a beautiful day and the birds are behaving like automata created specifically for human amusement. I’m wearing a skirt that looks like it could belong to you – full, dark grey cotton with a black silk chiffon flutter at the edge – and humming ‘leaving on a jet plane’ in your honour.
10 December. M: Everything he says I am waiting for a pay out, a joke to be made, a criticism or some subtle form of mocking. Nothing. I am shocked and in heaven…
11 December. S: I ran again today. Go me.
12 December. M: This is what I go and sit in Sadies in Smithton for, to find kindred spirits in pilots, chook raffles and letters with you.