The city is Perth, Australia. The stories are real enough.

Reality begins with the first retelling. Memory snips around stories...   Intercity distance. We know the globe as a patched work of countries...   A poem about pedestrians. There are no footprints in the City...   A superhighway of faces. I bus to Perth / must cost less...   Born running. Darling machines we live with...   The looking-glass city. Winter passed in procession, rapid...   How roads became. Long ago, before the first cities were built...   Your own little bit of nature. High walls: the weeded gardens...   Song for a suburb. Unlike happiness, you can't buy a home...   New York, you seemed so tall. Bound for the new world...   Return to Hand Written...

All writing copyright (C) 2001 Todd Owen. Email: towen@lucidcalm.dropbear.id.au. Viewable with any browser. Lynx friendly.