ash drifts down like confetti at a party that’s already soured—families, sailors, shearers, standing under the sky’s temper tantrum, streaks cutting through the darkness like fresh bruises. the full moon watches quietly, the only sober one here, unimpressed by the flash already starting to fade. the trees don’t move, holding their breath. the birds started flying crooked, lost in the mess left behind.

it’s almost funny how quickly the town’s mood shifts. the same folks who fret over a few missing millimetres of rain, who keep tabs on which way the breeze is blowing over their morning toast, are now deep in the drama of a bloated whale washing up on west beach. the day before, it was all,

“bit of a southerly coming in, should keep the temps down,” but now? it’s a full-blown shark documentary playing out in real time.

predictable, palatable, like dipping into a local pool with a clear view of the bottom. the water’s cool, the edges familiar - no surprises lurking in the deep. but i could throw myself off a granite rock into the wild waves, daring the social sharks and feeling the sting of criticism on my skin as i penetrate a crystal veneer.

now, picture your awe library. not a tranquil archive but a feral, shifting labyrinth. awe isn’t polite. it’s the moment your breath catches and your stomach drops, the feeling of being completely unmoored, teetering on the edge of something incomprehensible. it’s that eerie clarity when the world suddenly sharpens, and for a second, you see everything too clearly. your awe library holds these moments, but not as keepsakes. it’s alive, mutating with every new fragment you feed it, breaking and reforming itself into shapes strangely unfamiliar.

the sauna’s heat envelops us in a thick, suffocating embrace, the air dense with a pungent mix of sweat and eucalyptus. each breath feels like a labour, the oppressive warmth pressing in from all sides. the door creaks occasionally, letting in a fleeting rush of cool, chlorinated air from the pool outside. its synthetic blue attempts to mask the grimy detritus below – drifting toilet paper, forgotten jewellery, and shards of swimming lessons. this vivid blue contrasts sharply with the sauna’s steamy interior, a juxtaposition that makes me yearn for my own private pool and sauna. yet it’s precisely these clashing shades of others’ worlds that keep me returning to this place.