The Young Person’s Guide to Time Travel
Adelaide hasn’t changed much in seven years. The plague fires burn slowly in the hills above the city and the UFO landing site at Gillman remains unfinished.
Out of the portal. A nod to the musty collector in the basement, then past dusty CDs, DVDs, hard drives and magazines. Up the wooden steps to the store above, eyes down and out to the footpath. Home again. The sun descends on Rundle Street to the soft purr of traffic.
He swirls the coarse dregs of his coffee, thinking about a slip of a girl; the hem of her dress held up to the fan to cool her thighs on a hot hot night. Down-street from the cafe a park festival is in swing. A party night, at the end of a year of parties, making its demand on air conditioning across the city.
On the other side of the street a familiar bookstore beckons. He bolts, shuttering his memory as her dress catches the air and swells. They laugh, seven years ago, on a hot hot night.