Norwegian Woods

 

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Another Postcard Afternoon.

It stunk out. A stiff northerly kicked up a dust devil as I stepped out of the car and walked to the drive thru bottle-o. Grit’s whipped into my eyes. They weep as I’m peeling the shirt off my back, I step into the cool room and quickly find the cheapest slab pale ale.

“Cheer up mate, cant be that bad” the bald mad with stubby digits says to the chuckle of a small crowd of local boozers queuing up at the counter.

Back in the lot. Looks like a wreckers backyard. Cars parked haphazardly wherever they’ll fit across the potholed mosaic of asphalt and broken glass. Its always been like this since I’ve known it.

But it wont be forever. No.

A passing glance reveals a wee tsunami of gentrification washing through the streets of old Palmy. Shiny white Cafes, Hip restaurants, boutique shops and trendy barbers. A dozen or so popping up in the last year. The pissheads with the blistered coupons wont be chuckling when they cant afford the rent anymore.

The slabs in the boot. I spark up and sink back into the cab.

Suns getting low.

Lighting up the faded pastels of the highway motels real nicely.

Lights go red.

Lights go green.

Lights go red.

Traffic backs up and we all crawl along in this beautiful stinking postcard afternoon together.

 

Casa Bonita

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I can’t believe they gave me the money.

Most of them wouldn’t, Not the big 4. Not way. When I was about to give up on buying the unit, when I was just about to pack in the job, move back into my car and head out North again, there was a nock at the door.

A tall pale man in a dark suit with raven black hair and eyes like coal. He smiled a cold sharp smile and introduced himself a B.E. Lubbuz, and said he wished to loan me the amount I needed for the unit and more on top of that. He had eight shadows stretching out from under his feet in different directions. I though that was a very cool trick to pull on an overcast day. I invited him in and made him some tea.

He talked for a bit about numbers and repayments and jargon but I lost interest quickly. I was hungover became distracted by a cloud shaped like a dinosaur floating pas the kitchen window. I noticed bright green flames would flicker in B.E’s eyes whenever he mentioned repaying the debt. Anyway, before long I decided to sign up and get this creepy guy out of my house. I was tired. Tired of everything. He had a fit of laughter when I signed next to the X and then disappeared in a puff of smoke. He left a cheque behind.

I went and got the keys the next day.