In Perth,
Kicking up a cloud of dust, a young man emerges from a sea of trees, clutching at the straps of his hiking pack. His hair is shoulder length, greasy, and dark, pushed back over his head and hidden under a wide brimmed hat. He's been keeping a careful eye on the time during his adventure through the Mundaring forest, and now, it's time to complete his journey. Wednesdays, he's decided, will have to be his town days in future. Friday wasn't the smartest choice. After all, he needs supplies, and use of the post office all day.
'Allen!' A friendly man waves him over.
'Angus, actually,' he corrects.
'Yeah, that's right! You're the kid who's travlin' round Aussie on a safari, ay? How's it going?'
'Pretty well, I'd say. Just came in to post my little brother a letter. He's away at summer camp.'
'Summer camp? Lucky bugger, it's dead cold here.' Angus looks confused. It may be winter, but it certainly isn't cold. At least by his standards, anyway. 'Since you're in town, want to come down to the pub and grab a coldie? A few of us are watching the rugby later, you're welcome to come.'
'Nah, think I'll pass actually. Rugby isn't my game.'
'Well whatever your game is, I wouldn't fancy it,' the man laughs.
'Huh?' He asks. The man points to his eyepatch in response.
'Did one of ya animals get ya?'
'No, it's from a while ago. Camp game went wrong,' he explains. It's half true.
'Ah, well, see ya around. Plannin' on coming back in town any time soon?'
'Yeah, Wednesday, I think.'
'Well, just yell for Keith in the dairy, I'll be down there somewhere,' he claps Angus on the shoulder, walking down the road, presumably off to the pub.
