Ripping yarns, beautiful lies and a few home truths.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Driving, wondering who he was
Drove past the Boddington mines towards Pinjarra, slowed up on the hills behind a semi carrying a dump truck and a bulldozer, into the jarrah country where every side track is signed for dog baits and dieback. Onto the flatlands of cattle and tuarts. Old flood plains. Road houses. Primary schools. Antique shops. Blokes carrying slabs of beer to their gravelly cars.