Yesterday, whilst walking through the back of Bondi Junction towards Centennial Park, a car lurched out of a side street.
The driver was having a conversation with his passenger. The conversation seemed amiable but that is irrelevant.
Both occupants of the car resembled members of Spandau Ballet. The brothers.
The car itself would also have been better left in the 80′s.
He looked both ways, a flash of a chunky gold bracelet on the wrist as he clasped the steering wheel. He pulled out sharply and disappeared up the road.
All that was left was an internalised and unwanted soundtrack ringing on repeat. A creeping sense of mild disdain.
I know this much is true.
