The Lucky Charm

A couple of months ago I was walking through Circular Quay with a really good friend of mine. Incredibly hung over, with the brain capacity of a half-chewed Mango pip, we endeavoured to peruse the street markets, because, really, touching things, and looking at them with our eyeballs was about all we were good for that day. Strolling through the stalls, I saw what seemed to be a shop that sold lucky charms. Various animal parts, fluffy bits and bones were strewn across tables and suspended from the roof. Having never seen a rabbit’s tail or anything like that before, I excitedly made my way over to touch it for optimal luck. This will definitely perk me up, I thought, as I reached out to touch the rabbit’s tail, until, oh, no, it was rock hard, and swung around the reveal a tag saying ‘Roo Scrotum’. Let this be a lesson to you: in life, you can never un-touch a ball sack. Not ever. 

The Smudge

A non-story


Today it's kind of mysteriously dark outside, and people are everywhere I want to be. Which means I have to move. Because two's almost a crowd, and crowds are distracting. So now I am on the couch, people-ended, like a really claustrophobic book. I should be doing things. But the air conditioning is blasting in my face like it wants to burn it off. Work-related; I am thinking about what it's like for a deaf, blind, nerve-ending(less) person to experience travel. Sub-thought; they wouldn't get claustrophobic or feel bothered by aggressive air conditioning. Probably.