How To: Do Sundays

Words by Katia Pase

Published on May 8, 2013

Wake up behind the train tracks and also behind a strip club in Richmond.

Watch the hot air balloons flying only a metre or so above the rooftops a while. Yell at the people in the basket. Their day is just starting. They must have money.

Hop the next inbound. Open the roller door in the laneway round back of the house. Go inside to find the bathroom door ripped clean off the wall.

Chad’s standing at the stove and he tells me you done it. Check your nails, he says.

I say, it’s no big deal, and where’s Angie? Then dial her though she won’t want to talk. Don’t be shit, I say. Don’t be. I’m serious. She hangs up and  Chad and I go back to the bag and get through most of it til he can’t walk. Fall asleep and wake again at midday, at mid afternoon, at six, at nine.

Dial Angie’s number again and she says what, what is it. Probably she’s over reacting.

Then say, I’m going to cut your fucking arm off.