“It looked out across a memorial garden, surrounded by dead lawn, lined by black-spotted roses that shed their little bit of perfume in the early evening, taking him back to Bundeena, and Fay, fiddling in her garden. It was a small room with a divan and no-nonsense mattress, cupboard, wardrobe and desk. There was an old aluminium lamp with a ring of little stars cut out of the shade. He often studied each of the five-pointed constellations and wondered how they’d been punched so clean. He wa...s sitting at his desk, reading a slab of words on his laptop; words he’d put there; words that made less sense the more he looked at them. As the volume increases the surface area increases too. But at some point the volume gets bigger quicker … He studied these last few words: gets bigger quicker. Or should it be, he thought, gets bigger faster, at a faster rate, quicker rate, increases more, grows much faster? Do I, really, care? He looked at the ring of stars and counted them.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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