It’s not Dirty Harry. It’s filthy Jimmy. And I’m gonna make your day.
Jim’s found a character to play. One that’s not scared, just very angry and extremely focussed on finding his father.
A creature of habit, John had gone to Macca’s shack. It was a safe-zone, a little derelict for John’s taste, but safe. Lyn had never been there. John had taken the kids there only once when he had to babysit them. But Jim remembered it. He always remembered the s**t times.
He charges over to the shack on a hunch. He knows John. To some extent he is John. He is turbo-charged. Raging. A time to kill. The tyres on his family wagon have never seen such tight corners.
WHERE IS HE! He yells at the windscreen through his white knuckled grip on the wheel, scanning the front yard. There are no s
