“I flick the flashlight in the direction of the treeline and the light is shot back at me from five, six, maybe eight sets of flickering eyes. Dogs. They are standing there, just inside the treeline. Still, watchful. Tails curled between their legs. Shoulders tense…”
“I see many films, and hear many stories about hitchhikers, and they always meet with some crazy guy, who kill them. I see you there, and I think I better give you a ride, because otherwise maybe some crazy guy will come along. You must be careful. Especially here in Australia…”
Half way up the track we meet Tank, on his ATV.
“Looks like good eating” he comments, peering at the roo between the folds of the tarp. “I’ll give you a ride to the top if there’s a burger in it for me.”
“Sure thing mate, come up for dinner tonight. Kangaroo steaks are on the menu…”
Super accurate travel guide about Thapae Gate in Chiang Mai.
(+ a bunch of chats w random humans)
When Craig and I played music KC was always around. I started to notice that KC really liked certain harmonies. If I played an A or a G chord, she would stretch her neck out and howl a little bit. Like she was singing. The first few times it happened we just laughed and patted her on the head. After a while though, KC’s singing improved and we really started to pay attention…
“I bring to you giddy visions of the delicate and spectacular tendrils of narrative and prose that bind our universal consciousness!”
“What the..? Your claws are kind of hurting my scalp…”
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I notice a slight, flickering glow, away beyond the treeline, silhouetting the grass stems and low hanging branches of the trees. I come to the edge of a steep bank, and peer over it. Below me is a shallow watercourse. He’s sitting on the creek bank, beside a tiny fire. He’s facing away from me but I can see his profile in the firelight; creased brow, hook nose, stained grey beard. Rage surges up in me…
What was it like for a sixteen year old girl hitchhiking across Canada with a rock band?
“They were saying; ‘don’t take photos, because the kids will throw petrol bombs at you and they may go in our shops’. No shit. That’s what they said…”