As kids, the waterhole on the Eight Mile Creek was the go-to centre of our world. The four of us would ride our bikes down to its deep watery world, then line up to swing off the rope for that first exhilarating ‘bomb’. We had no idea where it was eight miles from, or to.…

It was a risky strategy, but risk often maximised returns. And besides, it was fun ‘gaming’ the system. As an Investment Banker, I read the Morning Brew newsletter religiously. But the routine was starting to bore me. The takeaway latte, sipped as you trudged along cloudy Collins Street. But jees, that newsletter opened up a…

The mind moves towards discernible thought, fog dissolves into a clearer scape. There is still haze, a lamp-lit bridge, stark, silhouetted, but distorted against the softening night, a misty swirl. There is a hooded figure, hunched against the chill, pausing under a lit space to light a cigarette. There is an illuminated clockface atop a…