Am still inspired by Scarlet Blue and her Jack Daniels over “glassy chinkles of ice.”  Even though no-one’s visited her.  Did the cow pat put you off?

Her glassy chinkles are my pop of champagne cork on Friday afternoons at 4:30pm in a cramped office in Bourke Street.  Signal to ease up on the pretences, if not to down tools altogether.

Some other sounds from this town:

electric wire gargle of the magpie

prop plane on a sunny afternoon

wind in the tops of the cedars at Como House

burner on the hot air balloon blotting out the sky from the window

curtains drawing back for the main feature

gravel underfoot

goods train late at night across the river

plop of camellia head on the mantelpiece

Roulettes on Grand Final day

vibration of air when the alarm finally shuts down

piercing the gold paper on the jar of coffee

truck changing gears on the hump over Burnley railway station

milk frothing for a latte

voices off when falling asleep

tram bell on the old number 6 going down High Street

ocean withdrawing over sand.

Did I miss any?

*****

Image: Global Ballooning, Melbourne