Torquay
I drive down to Torquay after dinner one night and I have to pull over twice on the way, I am so on edge. I'm disoriented and convince myself I've made a wrong turn, even though I know for a fact that there's nowhere to turn. For long stretches at a time, I am the only thing lighting up the road. It's a relief when I finally turn off the highway and into the quiet residential streets.
I wake up first in the morning, and I sneak out into the living room to read. I am reading American Psycho, which is fine. Fine is more than enough, these days.
The lounge is incredibly well-lit, in that three of the four walls are just entirely windows and doors. The morning sun floods the room and I am so so so overjoyed to be hit with the sunshine. The housemates have dogs, and they quickly find their way into my lap, and for an hour or two it's just us, the sun, and Patrick Bateman on another killing spree.
Eventually my kind host wakes up and we go for a drive down the Great Ocean Road. There is no end goal.
At the Kennett River Cafe, we stop to order some food and eat it down by the beach. Sitting on the sand, the clouds make way for the sun again, and I quickly remove my socks and shoes and wander into the ocean. I take the stance of a scarecrow, with my arms out wide, determined to soak in as much sunshine as I can.
All of this really, I'm trying to soak in as best as I can. I don't know how long it will last, but it feels right, for right now.