Falling Backwards

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James Quinn. Falling Backwards

Falling Backwards

Contents

Autumn

Winter

Spring

Summer

And Now

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James Quinn

Winter

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Days later, the anorexic girl was still playing on my mind. A world of self-absorption and of self-destruction. A world of appalling need and a world of greed. A perfect world for unequal exchange. It was Monday morning, 10am, and warm for autumn. Bright Sydney sunshine wearied the drooping gum trees behind King Street. In my little workers cottage I showered, dressed and gathered up my gear, not feeling so great about my fellow humans. As I closed my front door and hit the street en route to the bus stop, squinting my eyes against the glare, I noticed a woman walking towards me on the footpath. I was not in the mood. I could tell that she had clocked me, so I averted my eyes. She was maybe 48 years old, wearing a pair of denim jeans and a pink checked cowboy shirt. She was also wearing a white cowboy hat. I looked down. She was wearing white leather cowboy boots. They were a little over ankle length. But of course they were.

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