Woke up sweating atop my itchy algae coloured blanket. 

I’m not sure what day it was but the sun was already glaring through my bedroom window. My mouth was dry. My nose was runny. The glass of water I left on my bedside table was empty. Dust glowed white in my room.   

I remember watching the ice cubes melt into my instant coffee. And crunching on them for fun

Mid-morning, the late-summer sun was already wilting spinach in the veggie patch and as I left the house a flickering wind was picking up leaves and dirt from the tram tracks and into my eyes.

I rode my pushbike to the Brunswick Baths as the sun sweltered off the Lygon bitumen. An unbearably dry heat enveloped the whole city.

I layed wet under a tree on the dirt beside the pool. My wet hair was pillowed by my boots and pants. I looked at the cloudy February cyanotype between the leaves and saw an Indian Minor bird's cloaca staring at me as it rested on the branch above. I awaited my good luck.