My Father Told Me About This:
On the left, there’s the front of a building that is now a dojo - but back in the Sixties, it was a dance hall, and quite the place to go of a Saturday night.
Through the bridge, there’s a red brick building, which is a police station.
It all looks very peaceful, but back in the day, it was a pretty rough sort of a venue.  You could pretty much rely on a fight breaking out every weekend, and if you weren’t near the door, you’d have to grab onto one of the coat hooks that lined the wall, and hold on for dear life.
It was also an oddly safe venue, so you wouldn’t need to hold on for very long, though. Because each time a fight started, the management would turn off the light under the eave - and before long, the police would notice it was off and come a’running, and a few would-be tough guys would dry out in the holding cells until Sunday morning.
~
image & text: Loki Carbis

My Father Told Me About This:

On the left, there’s the front of a building that is now a dojo - but back in the Sixties, it was a dance hall, and quite the place to go of a Saturday night.

Through the bridge, there’s a red brick building, which is a police station.

It all looks very peaceful, but back in the day, it was a pretty rough sort of a venue.  You could pretty much rely on a fight breaking out every weekend, and if you weren’t near the door, you’d have to grab onto one of the coat hooks that lined the wall, and hold on for dear life.

It was also an oddly safe venue, so you wouldn’t need to hold on for very long, though. Because each time a fight started, the management would turn off the light under the eave - and before long, the police would notice it was off and come a’running, and a few would-be tough guys would dry out in the holding cells until Sunday morning.

~

image & text: Loki Carbis

Toby’s Career 
These days, Toby had finally achieved his  dream of making it big as an actor, starring in a big Hollywood trilogy.  He was frequently accused of forgetting his roots, and there were those  who felt he should have displayed a little more gratitude to those who  sustained him in the long years of temping before his ship came in.
Of course, there were also those who said that people took this too  far at times.  Like the forklift operator, the interior designer and the  four office managers who all thought that his two week stints with them  entitled them to a cut of the pie.
Toby’s next film will be “Batman vs Fawkner”. It will be filmed in Vancouver and Sydney.
~
image: David Witteveen
text: Loki Carbis

Toby’s Career

These days, Toby had finally achieved his dream of making it big as an actor, starring in a big Hollywood trilogy. He was frequently accused of forgetting his roots, and there were those who felt he should have displayed a little more gratitude to those who sustained him in the long years of temping before his ship came in.

Of course, there were also those who said that people took this too far at times.  Like the forklift operator, the interior designer and the four office managers who all thought that his two week stints with them entitled them to a cut of the pie.

Toby’s next film will be “Batman vs Fawkner”. It will be filmed in Vancouver and Sydney.

~

image: David Witteveen

text: Loki Carbis

He crosses the wide beach furtively. Foggy  days like this are a gift - he can forage during daylight rather than at  night - but he still needs to take care. He doesn’t want to be seen.
He stretches his hearing to the limit, but fog muffles sound as well  as vision. Finding food will mean taking chances, but then, it always  does.
It’s been decades since the waters of Cheviot made him their own, but  the price of discovery remains the same: he can live forever beneath  the waves, emerging only when he will not be seen; or he can be Harold  Holt.
~
image: Angelica East
text: Loki Carbis

He crosses the wide beach furtively. Foggy days like this are a gift - he can forage during daylight rather than at night - but he still needs to take care. He doesn’t want to be seen.

He stretches his hearing to the limit, but fog muffles sound as well as vision. Finding food will mean taking chances, but then, it always does.

It’s been decades since the waters of Cheviot made him their own, but the price of discovery remains the same: he can live forever beneath the waves, emerging only when he will not be seen; or he can be Harold Holt.

~

image: Angelica East

text: Loki Carbis

Lost in the Library 
Despite our best efforts, vandals got into  the library once again.  While some were satisfied merely to stencil graffiti onto the Information Desk, others were more subtle.
A single arm broken off a letter and glued back on, an F become a T,  and for two months, crime fiction loving Melbournians read only those  works that had been placed aside for removal from the collection due to  their faults.
~
image: Angelica East
text: Loki Carbis

Lost in the Library

Despite our best efforts, vandals got into the library once again.  While some were satisfied merely to stencil graffiti onto the Information Desk, others were more subtle.

A single arm broken off a letter and glued back on, an F become a T, and for two months, crime fiction loving Melbournians read only those works that had been placed aside for removal from the collection due to their faults.

~

image: Angelica East

text: Loki Carbis

The trains still came, but they were a  commonplace now, no longer an amazement. Wonder had been tamed. The  blood and bone spent to lay the rails and build the platforms still  performed the task for which it had been sacrificed, but time had  softened the cries of the spirits. At most, a passenger might hear, and  think if the wind howling or the brakes screaming.
The pride of the linemen and drivers was exhausted, and duty’s  devotion buried under mere repetition. The wheels on the trains still  turned, but more to push the numbers in the bank accounts, than the  no-longer-mighty engines.
And Periander, god of railways, looked down upon the once-proud  copper dome that surmounted his temple, and wondered if anyone would  notice when it rusted to nothing.
~
image: Angelica East
text: Loki Carbis

The trains still came, but they were a commonplace now, no longer an amazement. Wonder had been tamed. The blood and bone spent to lay the rails and build the platforms still performed the task for which it had been sacrificed, but time had softened the cries of the spirits. At most, a passenger might hear, and think if the wind howling or the brakes screaming.

The pride of the linemen and drivers was exhausted, and duty’s devotion buried under mere repetition. The wheels on the trains still turned, but more to push the numbers in the bank accounts, than the no-longer-mighty engines.

And Periander, god of railways, looked down upon the once-proud copper dome that surmounted his temple, and wondered if anyone would notice when it rusted to nothing.

~

image: Angelica East

text: Loki Carbis