In The CBD

Walking down Collins Street, 7am, it is quiet and unseasonably cold, I was glad I had my jacket on.


“And all who sail in her.” My key walking to work fantasy is Pirates and deck hands, and the likes.

I christen you Troupe Carrier Navajo. Now there’s a troupe, I’d like to carry, let me tell you.

Oh yes, alright. No. No. No. I am agreeing with ya.

I christen you Troupe Carrier Wahinngy.

Better. I am glad you are satisfied.

The Wahinngy, from Arnhem Land.

You’ll see them in the address book under W.

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