Symmetrically proportioned with clear eyes, long lashes, even nose and sumptuous lips. Glowing, unblemished skin that reflects the light. A long graceful neck. Smooth décolletage. Perfectly-rounded pert bosom, narrowing to hand-span waist. She would call her—Caryatid, formally, from the Greek. In ancient times, sculpted female figures serving as architectural supports. In Jane’s case, her architectural visage. A mask. An appendage. Her pillar of strength.
Inside the Time Cube it was, admittedly, pretty fucking nice. And our friends were there! Even the dead ones! All of our art and music and culture, and all of the thrilling and dangerous new forms of expression and rebellion were happening there now.
Two thousand rough sleepers in Victoria who were offered hotel accommodation during the pandemic are now being hastily evicted. The government showed us how easily they can house people when it’s considered a priority. They can’t unshow us that. We can’t unsee it.
Navid is chasing his dreams. Dreams that as a stateless Feyli Kurd he cannot achieve where he is, a Feyli Kurd who cannot acquire a National ID card, who cannot participate in sporting competitions. Living here is difficult for someone like Navid who has given his blood, sweat and tears to wrestling. He is a stateless person whose life changed suddenly, who can now no longer remain living where he is.
The mother and her two girls were naked in the members’ change room of the gymnasium. They had just taken a shower and their three blue towels were hanging on the hooks. The mother was brushing her hair. Evie was sitting on the wooden bench getting herself dressed. She pulled on a pair of pyjama pants, which were decorated with a single repeated print of a purple unicorn.