Testing Melancholy

This is a picture of Carmel Tebbut on the night after the election; when I had dropped polly off at the airport through the poring rain; when the crisis in my own life had reached some terrible point; when the beaches that were the scene of such despair in my youth had come back four fold.

I am typing this on a very old computer in the house next to the emporium at tambar springs> the shift button is stuck so there will be no capitals> or it would seem full stops> there was a lot to be done< if only he could rectify his heart>

we were callous< and gloom laden< and depressed< as one might be but the night of euphoria< when there was no chance of labor losing< none at all< and i wished i was part of the tribe: that was all< longing to belong>