The Day I Left

The day i left the koala capital the sun was shining. The girl's little yellow car was disappearing over the hill. i sat on my bag and sucked down a ciggie. The future was opening up in front of me.

Ants were crawling over the ground by my feet. I had as much idea as they did.

A car came over the hill my girlfriend had just disappeared behind and i was whisked further into the unknown. It was enjoyable, five days moving west, meeting people, dwelling on the threshhold.

The day I arrived in Perth the sky was overcast, but i was optimisitic.

It lasted three weeks, weeks full of sun, drinking, new experience, phone calls to a middle class angel on the otherside of the country.

When, one night, she asked if I minded that she was going out drinking i replied i didn't. Why should I? She never had a problem with me going out and having fun. Trust was overflowing.

She never returned my calls. The truth came slowly at first, then quicker. Soon I was drowning, gasping for air, a pain like I'd swallowed a plate full of razor blades. Naturally i drank, a bit more than usual. Soon enough I sobered up and began putting the pieces together, life dragged on, slower now there seemed to be no reason.

The rope broke and the leg snapped. A fancy plaster cast to haunt me.