8.
“And I kept drinking. Probably for about another month or so. Until one day…” Pat stopped briefly and took a breath. He was giddy with exhilaration. “And I have no memory of this, I was told about it at the hospital – they found me. Outside. Behind the dumpster.” Continue reading
7.
Speaking at AA was like jumping off the ten-meter diving board when he was a kid in Brisbane. When you looked down, you were riveted by sheer terror. Then, once you did the thing you’d climbed the ladder to do, it was a mix of relief and sheer exhilaration. Continue reading
6.
Pat needed a few things, but shopping would have to come later; he didn’t want to rock up to his first meeting with anything other than his hands in his pockets. He closed his coat against the late-morning cold and hunkered down against the wind.
Melbourne was like London, but less so, in every way. Busy, but fewer people. Rainy, but not as wet. Windy, but not as sharp. Continue reading
5.
“The two businesses are stand-alone,” said Wally, lighting his third Marlboro as he once more propped himself against the bar of The Re:Public. Continue reading
4.
As Wally ground his cigarette butt into the mound of ash and picked up his keys, Pat took stock of the framed poster that hung behind the bar. A 5X3-foot Ramones Australian Tour poster, framed, the image of the eagle clutching the baseball bat partially obscured by the sheen of artificial lights on the glass. Continue reading
3.
Melbourne congealed on the horizon; a vast grey monolith slumped beneath an iron-grey sky. Continue reading
2.
Pat watched the other travellers file past, pushing trolleys of luggage, giving him the once-over. In every passing face he read, ‘Thank God that’s not me.’ Continue reading
1.
Melbourne, as a city, is a lot like London.
Pat believed this like a superstition as he sauntered down the corridor that connected the aeroplane to the terminal. Continue reading
Theme Park at its Darkest 