THE LAST DAYS

They became thin frantic shapes, hustling down the sidewalks in the downpour...

My last days in Australia were spent warmly, albeit in the shadow of goodbyes.

I experienced a hurricane with my Whitsunday friends, Laura and Theo, watching the limbs of palm trees stripped and tossed by the wind. We witnessed it from within the grocery store, and would later play billiards on the rain sodden felt of an outside pool table.

I would perform strange, profane dances with the Spank Me crew, laughing madly, celebrating our recent Voyage amid machine-made fog and flashing lights.

The following day I said goodbye to Tom. He boarded the bus as the sun was setting over Airlie Beach—and so ended our journey together, 1,108 miles from where we began.

Sebastian Storm is tall, sharp minded and distinct, with long curly hair, often pulled back, and a roguish smile. We discussed social disorientation in a Domino's while waiting for our pizzas, and then spent the afternoon with Laura and Theo tossing around a water-ball at the local lagoon.

That night I occupied a table with Katie and Becka, where we exchanged wit, bantering pleasantly till the early hours.

I boarded my flight at 7:30 in the morning and flew to Sydney.

The hurricane had cost me a tee shirt and a plane ticket—significant loses—and I arrived in the city a bit unnerved.

It was raining.  

The weather was fitting, oddly, and I'll never forget the look of her as I entered the room—my dreamer—sitting there on the bed in her panties, filing her nails. She looked up at me and blushed.

I dropped my pack on the floor and kissed her.

The city became swathed in its night cloak as we rode the train to the Opera House. She'd bought us tickets for the ballet, Manon. It was beautiful—although we had to buy coffees to keep awake through the final act.

We spent the morning exploring and wishing, walking past the pizza place and through Darling Harbor as I said my goodbyes to the city, and when the time came, she rode with me to the airport and kissed me at the gate.

I walked the aisle, looking back until I lost sight of her.

There were tears in her eyes, mine too, as I boarded the plane, and suddenly all the adventures were memories now—resting within my mind, a curing barrel, where they will age and ferment and become golden.

I fell asleep during the take-off.