“The flowers were insane. But it was the heat that ruined it for me. Or made it too difficult. I was used to a sky the colour of oyster shells. But Adelaide was blue, accusing. The mirages in suburbia trembled like cellophane. And Goolwa grew heavier as the river dried up. Soon the town was hot as a foundry. Even the tropical flowers were unbearable. Yes, brassy trumpets. All that molten growth. One evening I went with Lulu down to the river and she told me what I’d see. Quiet a mome...nt, she said. Be quiet just an itsy bitsy moment. Good advice. I’d been telling her it was impossible to keep Hey Bulldog running. I thought of the dust on the window. The red dust on the counter. It was all costing money, though not whatthe shop is setting me back here on The Caib. Yet it was a drain on my time. My precious time. But above all, it meant too many people were unhappy with me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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