A road trip to the tip of Cape Cod. A town that does Bear Week like nowhere else on earth. Seafood that warranted the drive. A karaoke bar that discovered something about its newest patron. And a cold so bitterly personal it left a flu as a souvenir. Worth every degree of it.
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A hurricane that grounded every airline but one. A former airline employee who fixed it in two minutes. A building fifteen floors up, swaying. A flooded Manhattan and a drive through darkness without traffic lights. Hurricane Sandy — the storm that turned a New York visit into something considerably more than a visit.
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A first big trip. A mother and son on Queensland Rail, heading south to visit family. A cousin with a church group and an enormous quantity of alcohol. A homecoming that went badly wrong. A holiday cut short and a train back to Cairns — rather sooner than planned.
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A chat floor. A flight to Melbourne. A week in a motel and a tram ride through a city neither of them lived in together for long. What followed was a friendship of twenty-five years — irregular, occasionally fractious, and entirely genuine. Until, recently, it wasn’t.
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