I’m hugging the contours of the continent, tightly.
At a glance, I’d consume over 15 000 in a few weeks. I was driven, like a man on a mission to arrive somewhere.
Just where?
I’d feel my way and see where the welcome signs were displayed.
None in Coffs Harbor.
None in Grafton.
None in Umbra.
None, none and none.
None in Ipswich.
Bellbird?
Bellbird Park?
Yes, yes and yes.
It all began after responding to an post for a granny flat.
He was Indian.
Promising.
And it could just well be a base I was looking for.
I had looked into the prospect of roadying when I was in that hotel in Umarra.
Management said I should move on.
And I was moving.
Moving towards the gigs that were coming to town.
Sure, it was baby steps.
But once I cracked  the code, I’d be in, like Flynn.
Show Support was an option.
They had offices in ever major capital of Australia.
That would be my starting point.
I had a starting point.
I just needed four walls and a roof over me.
The Hindu would facilitate that.
He had been waiting for me.
He was Hanuman incarnate.
And I would be his apprentice.
Eventually.
Things were starting to full into place.
I had driven away from all the negative fuckers.
Negative they were.
As much as they tried to destroy me.
It backfired.
All they did was provide material for Road Kill.
Which I graciously accepted.

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