When I first started visiting my mother from Sydney it felt like the ends of the earth, but that impression passed. In Bundaberg no one is a stranger for long. At the IGA checkout where I used to shop for Mum’s habitual bits and pieces - a box of tissues to add to the stockpile, sweet biscuits that would remain in her bedside tin until my next visit - I never left without a piece of wisdom or a kind enquiry. It came standard with the receipt. Once it was the secret to the best chocolate cake going. It’s instant coffee, by the way, a teaspoon, not too much.like a motherless child
This was high-end accommodation. He had had no idea. He had paid a lot of money but that was to be expected, given that the company had bought exclusive rights to the mountain. He had been confused by all the information. He'd thought you had to stay two nights - the night before the climb, and the night mid-climb.
“And the other guest has arrived, sir?”
“Your fellow guest, sir? Your companion?”
“What do you mean? It's only me.”mountain lodges
Crutch reached into the sink and resumed washing the plate. It was black ceramic and embossed with Latin words around the perimeter. Crutch had no idea who thought plates like this were a good idea. They were Rocky’s, originally, but even Rocky couldn’t remember where they came from. Rocky said the words were magic – forgotten spells and arcana. Crutch hated washing them. Food coagulated in the letters’ crenellations.a story about werewolves and vampires