Writing Big Year: Better in Darwin

Checking in. It’s the blessed Lucky Bat Cafe in Nightcliff. Darwin exudes heat (a water chiller!), though it’s not as life sapping as I found it during November and March visits. This time, somehow, my patina of perspiration relaxes and distances the world. My window seat chimes with cafe sounds and music and voices, yet silently nurtures a quiet pen at work. Outside: parked cars, a blue dog bowl of water, exotic palms low and tall, a blue sky whose blue isn’t like Melbourne at all.

Here I work swiftly, without hesitation. A cocoon timeless.

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