a colleague, simpering under pressure, shrinking into his right shoulder and smiling, unable to name names.  "but which authors?"

moderating myself in camera, taking in wound up overactive grin, the shiny flush and temple vein. turning the dial down, moving slower.

"you don't always seem comfortable."

hands together on the desk. how are you in the room? do you know?

washing unfolded & left in the dim apartment, door closed on it, bright light. on the bougainvilleas no lizard. no birds but asian mynahs, arguing, distressed. and the skinny tortoiseshell cat unruffled. down in the lift. students writing in a black room.

in and out of focus. faces in meetings. the calendar and the emails. a visitor to fill in forms, large breasts, loose black hair, acne, composure, presence. yes, she can translate from tamil, without hesitation. through the window in a door - grey curls and a smurf's face, his italian name just lightly resting on his shoulders.

I come to find you walking the damp wood between the crocodile pits. oh corkondilly, what a beautiful corkondilly, you don't need to be afraid. that's it, that's the girl, that's the way. where I have to come if I want to see you - there in your waders, walking the damp wood on the other side. I think you must be short sighted. you keep your face turned down.

and I don't love crocodiles. there's no way from here to you. I breathe loudly and I cough but you are busy with your work.   I look at the moon. I look at all these swampy trees. walk the beam.

a video on human security issues

is playing inside the rooms of rest.

a woman calmly

reports an incident

into the emergency intercom.

oh! that is an alert passenger. thank you. 

some footage of some severed limbs. 

a closeup of her blackened teeth. 

-

who is this man with the heavy bag?

what is inside the bag?

pay attention to him if his behaviour does not seem right. 

it does not seem right. I am paying attention. 

am I paying attention? do I seem right? 

I am not sure what is inside my heavy bag

or if I am looking for a particular station to get down.

-

furphies

cannot see, but feel, the violence of money, its action in liberating will.

cannot see, but feel, the violence of poverty, its action in restricting choice.

What did I see today? I walked over the rise, through a cave, through the yard of someone's fishing hut to a cramped town wedged on the peninsula between cliffs. On one side it presses against mangroves. Open air bars have been set up on wooden platforms. Beer and curries are served amongst mosquitoes, crushed water bottles, muddy plastic bags. Shops for tattoos, skunk, massages. Then as the land gets firmer, wall to wall resorts - many with no walls, just contiguous terraces of fountains and pools, beds for lounging or for massage, pavilions for shade and refreshment.

I found a lane through the resorts to the beach on the far side, the bright, shelly side, frosted with beach mats and pink bodies. I walked to the shade of the cliff, waded, listened to the roar of the long boats. 

On my way back I startled a pair of lutungs as they fed, maybe dusky leafed monkeys, one stuffing a wad of broad, bright leaves in its mouth. They retreated a short way into the trees, then barked warnings at me as I passed underneath. 

Dear Doctor,

I want to answer your questions properly, even if what's done is done. I can't ever take back what happened or change the look that came over your face, how it opened up a trapdoor to this place I'm in now. But I will answer at least, in hope, and so you know that I am not holding anything back on purpose.

You said last year that the anniversary of your son's death was just before Easter. And when we first started working together you told me that it had been fifteen years since you had lived in the Canterbury Plains, so with those starting points it was very easy to find the rest of the details. You have to understand this when you give information about yourself. Anyone can just pay a fee to the newspaper to search through their files, it doesn't even cost very much.

The newspaper report mentioned the type of airplane your son died in, and it showed a photo of a piece of the wreck but the photo was black and white. It was easy to get the model itself, it's not rare, but it took me a while to make sure I had the right colour scheme. I began shortly after Easter, so research, purchase, assembly and painting have taken me eight months. I'm not totally sure what I thought would happen when I showed you the model but I didn't expect you not to recognise what it was. I thought you would know and understand straight away. I wish you had, so that I didn't have to go on to spell out what I have been doing.

When you finally understood the look on your face was awful. It sounds stupid now but I wasn't expecting it. I  have never felt so abandoned. You looked tiny and crumpled, and you picked up the model like you might have been able to see something in there. But there wasn't anything. I didn't put anything in there because I wouldn't have known what to put, and because although the body is hollow, it is just one piece, and the windows and the doors are sealed.

I think it will be a long time before you are willing to work with me again and this is very difficult to accept. But if I have to accept it I want you to understand too. You told me things to help me know you and trust you, but you weren't ready. Perhaps you still need to process some things about the death. I think it will be easier between us once you have.

We were both upset, so I'm not sure this was clear, but I made the model for you. If you would like me to keep it for now, I will.

Dear Doctor,

My miniature schnauzer has a liver shunt, and my veterinarian does not recommend surgery. And yet many of my schnauzer owning friends and relations tell me that surgery is the optimal treatment. My veterinarian went to a highly regarded school, but she often seems terse and unhappy. I understand she has had marital difficulties over a dishonesty issue. Also, since moving to our area she has not settled well or made healthy bonds with the dog breeding community. My schnauzer has always distrusted her, and the veterinarian reacts badly. Do you think the vet is refusing surgery out of spite? How can I be sure that a woman like this is telling me the truth?