In the Northern Territory, on the marsh near my house.

I was standing on my car using a giant tripod to photograph animal bones. It was evening when a battered ute rolled in through the bush. The window wound down and a wiry man stared silently, cigarette in mouth. I wondered … was he a friend's dad from high school?

He eyeballed the scene awhile before drawling in a quiet, croaky, monotone “you... must...really...like...bones”. He continued staring with a empty expression and drove away, cigarette smouldering. Minutes later, I heard the crackle of burning spear grass. A fire was spreading down the marsh track, and I wondered to myself aloud whether he set the grass alight on purpose or by mistake. 

 Humpty Doo makes me paranoid like that. 


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