OnDusk

 3.15am Saturday 20 June 2026. A rainy night with an icy wind in Canberra, Australia. Living in protest; loathing a life in decay. Doing whatever you please; overpowering the human condition. Anger makes deceit easy, the flooding mind makes a human think they’ll get away with what their sweat reveals. … You’re not a doctor, mate. I’m not a medical doctor either but I was fairly sure I was hearing him die alone in the apartment above. A slow decline. The full body falls had ceased days ago. His blood was poisoning him. Could he even ask for help now if he wanted to? Under the circumstances, if he died the memories shared would lead with what a sweet, gentle person he was, with unlimited potential. … There’d be no mention that he’d been invaded a week or so before. An eruption of enraged males crashing about before several leapt from the balcony above and scrambled over my fence.  That had been uncomfortably close for me. I’d arrived at the House of Lions unable to walk.  I...

  Eight currawongs sitting in a tree.  2am 8 June 2026 Monday,  Canberra  On my return from Sorry Business, the autumn leaves are down to the stragglers. ... There is no English equivalent to Sorry Business. Once the leap was made – the written word caught up to the much older oral accounts – some words in common emerged. How’s your Quantum Physics? Start there gentle reader, discover quantum mechanics, be enthralled by Theory. The trigger for a period of retreat and self care – Sorry Business - is death. In perpetuity, melancholy. In the evertime, abundance. ... I used a quarter tank of premium unleaded to reduce my footprint in preparation for emergence of a new world order. Unlike the Covid-frenzy 2019, this time around I collapsed what I want and what I need into the same list. During Sorry Business, the necessary work continues.  I serviced my car so I’m able to go home, ten hours away, in an instant. I fixed my car stereo so I enjoy being in my car. I boug...