“IT’S PRETTY.”
I knew the Yarra River traveled through this area, but I hadn’t had the chance to explore it yet. The park is full of mist and towering manna gums. I love that even in the heart of winter, these trees keep their leaves.
“Yeah, I come here whenever I need a place to think,” Elisa says. “My guides like it, and I figured you could do with the sense of peace today.” She points to the kiosk at the edge of the carpark. “And that.”
I sigh happily. “Yay! Coffee.”
The kiosk looks pretty new, still shiny in parts, though the birds have had their way with the tin roof and the baseboards.
“Welcome to Angels Park.” The guy behind the counter beams at us. Nearly bald, his skin holds a tinge of sunburn.
“Why is it called Angels Park?” I ask.
“It’s the angels, mate. Park is full of t
