On Roland

July 2020

"Wet mist slithered down my neck. I was standing on a wooden lookout platform halfway up the mountain’s flank, clutching the hood of my Gore-Tex jacket close around my face. It didn’t help. Grey mist swirled beyond the first few lichen-patched boulders, and I couldn’t see a thing from this supposed-viewpoint.”

Entry in open contest "Stories in September 2020" for Tasmanian and ex-pat Tasmanian writing.