A Novel in Ten Lines

We sat on a concrete wall in Paddington, waiting for the bus. The concrete was cold and hard. A shy punk was Benny. Spiked two-toned hair. Painted-dark punk eyes. I was 13. Handcuffed, he went quietly, missing the bus. The next morning found Benny, a body in blood. A dead-quiet watch-house. A dead cold concrete floor.

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Stevi-Lee Alver is an Australian writer and tattoo artist. She lives in the middle of Brazil with her wife. She loves bush walks and waterfalls but misses the ocean.