A 10 year old died of cancer in Lorne last week.
He knew he was going to die for an entire year.
Old enough to know what he was going to miss out on.
His entire body was riddled with it.
Everyone weeped at the funeral in the rain.
A baby was born at 11:11 in Lorne last night.
She was 9 days overdue; overcooked they said.
She has a red suction mark on her head, but is healthy.
Her parents are young and will live by the beach.
Everyone was smiling over champagne in the sun.
Surfing after sundown, squinting eyes to see in the fog filled darkness.
Cockatoos waking you up to see the sunrise through the gum trees.
Watching the ocean from a cliff, laughing at our friends falling off huge waves.
Dim sims, wedges, smoothies and bare feet in the late autumn sun.
Talks of having babies young, and together, to pass on the same friendship.
Playful slaps planned to best memorise the feeling of touch.
Winter is coming, and loneliness is an invisible blanket separating us all.
