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Kim and I are returning from a conference in Melbourne. When we get off the bus at the airport she has to go ahead of me because my case is so difficult to manage--it's stuffed to overflowing with compost. I am quite anxious about this until I realise that it's just compost. So I leave it on the side of the road and hurry into the airport, feeling very relieved.

Later in the day I am struck with guilt and go back to look for the suitcase. I find it in a field. The lid is open and the contents of the suitcase are spread all over the place. Kim's panties and bras lie in drifts in the fields. Condoms blown up like balloons are tethered by string to stalks of wheat. Faces of characters in 'The Simpsons' are drawn on the condoms. Their lips don't move but I can hear them talking.

Then I stumble across a little black book lying in the dirt. It's Kim's diary, open at today's date. 

   


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