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There's something wrong with every photocopier on her floor of the Australian Taxation Office. But Ella Hamilton doesn't want to go up to the next floor where she'll have to grovel to that bitch Geraldine who'll make those quiet little comments about a certain level-something officer and a certain secretary. John said the copies have to be ready for the midday posting so she'll just sit here and wait till the technician arrives.

Ella looks out the window onto Collins Street then looks up at the mountain. Becky will be somewhere up there, having fun, no doubt. I hope she doesn't get too cold in the snow. She's had a sniffle lately. No...that's right, her group was changed. Kim thought she was too small for all day in the snow. Lose to much heat. She's in the city. She might be underneath me right now.

Where is the rivulet? 

 

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