Alarm

 

The grimace, the wince, the internal shudder, sometimes the lizard blink, raising the arms both sides like a bird preparing to take wing was also known—it needed to be left until one had passed. Two weeks ago the deeply gouged leathery man, sitting over his beer in the window at the Elizabeth Street pokies smoking bench, had put on a twisted grimace of his own, recalling something way bad, presumably. The rough sleepers, the beggars by their cardboard signs (one was penning something yesterday for Fourth of July), the chap sitting on the cold footpath smoking by the phone booth at Woollies—such numbers brought undone. Overnight temperatures were near zero last few days and felt like 3 under, Pauli reported his iPhone showed yesterday. In the Studio the Pad yesterday failed to recharge both morning and night, until the temperature returned to “normal.” Young Antoinette was giving the woman drawing flowers in crayon on LaTrobe corner some converse instead of coin, as the young PhD candidate had none of the latter. Not using heating at home herself to save money had Ant’s feeling heart properly attune. The chap with his lady outside Coles said they hadn’t eaten for five days. To the suggestion of Sacred Heart, the man replied he had been barred from there, which drew a laugh from his companion. In Kachin State Shachendra WhatsApp-ed a dire situation: Life is any moment gone here. (Singapore was unendurable any longer for the Nepalese pastor.) Gaza, Ukraine and Sudan too made it into the paper this morning. Dressing in the more tolerable 6 degrees this morning there came a momentary confusion over the socks... Ah yes, worn overnight! Climate deniers would be chuckling at all the unnecessary alarm.