Posted 3rd May 2018
My family is from nowhere.
I wake up with the phrase in my head. It sits there, hanging over me, while I stumble around the flat, looking for my shoes. As I drive to work—the vast, iridescent Sydney sky gleaming above me—I’m enveloped by my own private, impenetrable fog.
The phone rings as I’m parking the car. It’s a journalist. Can he ask me a few questions?
“No,” I reply.
“What was your brother like as a child?”