It’s a curious thing: every car trip lasting more than 20 minute, and I’ve decided to start on my magnum opus. Some magnificent creation that would make schoolchildren in decades to come question their existence, and my sanity. Literary geniuses would misinterpret it, and I won't correct them. A pathetic little ditty or internet meme. High art.
An ambition consisting of a couple one-liners and insipid comments that disappears the second we return home. Open the doors – turn on coffee. Spend the next three hours checking Facebook and browsing reddit. Remember that you’ve still got another couple of pages to finish ‘A Christmas Carol’. Eat wedges and bacon bits. “The advice I’m going to give you goes directly against what I normally tell my patients. Eat McDonalds - a lot of it.” Medical justification.
Hear thunder. Watch rain fall horizontally. Lightning painting the sky an electric shade of purple. The harbour at Bowen – a milky arctic blue; lit internally, silhouetted against a rolling black storm. Walk because you’ve been locked out of the apartment, and are being eaten alive by sandflies. Cloud movement long before the rain starts to fall; nascent streaks of black accompanied by gallows lightning. Stream-of-consciousness as you haven't a clue what to write.
Microsoft word fills my screen with little green squiggles.
It disapproves of my grammar, heartily.