Updated: Sep 27, 2021
'I'm sure it will be okay. It's bound to be negative.'
A Lulu Lemon-attired blonde, sporting a neat bob and a mask uselessly slung around her neck, is reassuring her smart phone audience about her COVID test.
A posse of lycra clad MAMALS (middle aged males in lycra) whizz by in a whirring buzzing cloud, like mosquitos on the hunt. A snatch of conversation in passing,
'I'm sure the CEO hasn't got a handle on ... ' - with the remaining words lost to the wind in their wake.
The path to the harbour baths is littered with empty pizza boxes and broken brown glass fragments from midnight revels the night before, conducted under the cover of darkness safe from prying police eyes.
Welcome to the walled garden that is the eastern suburbs of Sydney, enclosed by an unscaleable invisible fence where the living is easy and the flowers bloom freely and profusely, where the light beyond that fence could be a new day dawning or created by bonfires burning in the suburbs beyond the wall.
What's to worry about? Our citizens are double-vaxxed with Pfizer and entitlement.
Copyright: text Roslyn Lawson; photo c v williams.
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