It’ll Be Back One Day

Every time I walked through that gate, I’d marvel at the pawpaws, bead trees, palms, bromeliads, and magnolias that surrounded me, noting the difference in heat from the street to the carport.

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The Hillarys House

It was set high in the northern coastal suburbs of Perth. The neighbourhood, Hillarys, had been a suburb for less than twenty years; before that, I don’t know.

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What’s It Going To Be, Hon?

My apartment is part of a council housing estate, which means it’s one in a honeycomb of 260 versions of itself.

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Down In The Valley

I’ve returned this year, like I do every Christmas, to my parents’ home on a busy street in Lenah Valley, Tasmania.

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Burning The House

You’re on the decking of our Christmas Hills house, the Yarra Valley stretching out like patchwork between your knees.

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Four Grey Walls

There is nothing uniquely ‘Canberra’ about our apartment. It is a generic yellow block, built in the ’90s, with a manicured yard and a body corporate that sends us letters we never read.

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Urchins

If northern NSW has ever had a ‘type’ of house, it’s a fibro two-storey with seams on the outside and a massive backyard, built high to avoid the floods.

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Living Things

While the city flooded, one of the timber stilts holding up my mother’s house uprooted.

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