Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
The ultra cheerful sound of The Asteroids Galaxy Tour chirps from the radio as our driver sets his tanned hands on the wheel. His sleeves are rolled up over the wrist, where a wealth of dark hair lives like localised forest. He does not move his shoulders much, but to roll them occasionally. Twice he gestures to the green range of Monte Cerreto, to tell us that Amalfi is on the other side.
He does not mention the columns of smoke that pour from different spots on the mountain. They grow as if exhaled by dragons buried deep in the earth, perhaps smuggled over Byzantine trade routes from beyond the sea. We stare out the window; catch glimpses of bright scales glittering on waves.
black garbage bags
tied to fences