I woke up on the 1st of January this year in a double bed spooning two of my friends in their dad’s apartment in a small town just out of Sydney. I’d spent New Year’s Eve doing the coffee table dance competition with my top four Myspace friends after the COVID restriction hammer was dropped…
My capsule hotel had bigger beds and cheaper rates than anything else in the area, but it didn’t have walls around its showers. So as I stood in the steam of the sento – the communal bath shared by guests – realising what the next week would have in store, I started to believe that…
"I need to buy some bin bags to shit in or there'll be an explosion in the night," said my fiancé of one month, roughly three-and-a-half minutes after we’d packed our life's possessions (and dreams) into our little commuter van.
This suddenly brought to my simple mind a question. Do you really know the person…