…The discord was as predictable as sausages at an Aussie barbecue.
She was too close. Sausages and barbecues aside, setting the story in Australia made no difference to the emotional distance. That was all too obvious. She needed distance from her inner turmoil, but it eluded her at every turn. While her writing allowed for a certain outpouring of emotion, the narrative was about as therapeutic as a knife twisting in her guts.
She closed her notebook and pushed it to the centre of the table, rubbing a sudden burst of goose bumps on her arms. The room was cool, the window frame revealing a rectangle of uninhibited blue. The fridge chugged to life and, as if roused by it, her coffee percolator hissed and gurgled on the stove. She poured herself a cup and returned to her seat. As she sipped
