The hot wind ripped skin off his face and the desert sunlight bored right through his sunglasses, humping the back of his head like an Afghani hooker. Phil surveyed the countryside with dissatisfaction. Arid, empty, golden desert reaching off on the left, a whole bunch of camel fuckland on the right. He sighed, considering whether to make the signal to ‘hurry it up’ to the stressed out truck driver behind them. Last time he did that the bugger looked as though he might ram their little Mitsub...

“Well, I think, it’s all a question of Faith,” I could hear the capital letter in her voice. “Kyles, you can’t be serious. Jesus, right? You sound like a freaking cliché!” Us two, reclining on the hotel balcony, merry from the scotch and the beer, sharing a joint in the nude and watching the bums fight for booze in the streets of Brisbane below. I smelled like her sex, excited and confident. “No, Phil, just listen,” she was hesitant. “There were so many, so many nights when I didn’t know whet...