Wants, Tightrope, Spilt Milk

Part Three #47: Cigarette on Darlinghurst Road

Darlinghurst Road was packed as per normal on a Saturday night and the sight of so many people absorbed in the same mediocre pursuits dressed in whatever and soaked in liquid confidence evoked duel feelings within Kasper. Though he couldn't help but desire the girls as he had before, they all stirred the fires of rage within him. He thought about how easy it would be to kill one of them. He was realistic though and knew his limitations. To kill more than one of them would be almost impossible, even with the gun that was tucked into his belt and covered by his jacket. He could imagine someone jumping to the rescue, a heroic wannabe who would tackle him and hold him till the cops turned up. He wondered if the knife would be a better weapon and felt it in his inner jacket pocket.

He ran a hand over his head and as he did a girl emerged from the same bar he had just left and stood alone as she lit a cigarette. She was a bit younger than him and stood with a peculiar expression of relaxation, as if only just having emerged from a massage. She wore a blue men's shirt with a hacked collar and though it appeared out of place compared to the flashy clothes of those around them, it seemed to fit more than any of the skimpy outfits that passed by.

"That's a nice shirt."

She turned to look at him, "I fucking love this shirt hey."

She had an accent but he couldn't quite place it. It sounded somewhat European, but with a scattering of American pronunciations.

"Hey, where are you from? You've got an accent but I can't place it."

"Huh?"

She had turned away from him and thus hadn't quite caught his question.

"I just asked where you were from. You've got an accent but I can't quite place it. You sound European or something."

"Israel."

"No shit!"

Kasper's reaction was one of genuine exhilaration. As a history teacher he had both studied and taught the Arab-Israeli conflict and thus it was a topic he was deeply intrigued by.

"What's up? You never met an Israeli or something?"

"No, I've studied it a bit, hey ...,"

"You ever been?"

"No, but I want to."

"What's stopping you then?"

He was caught off guard for a moment by the abruptness of her question.

"Money I guess. And work, I'm a teacher."

"You British?"

"Yer and Australian. Been here for like 15 years so I guess I'm more Ozzy now than English."

"You got duel passports?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

"So what about you? What're you doing in Oz?"

She flicked her still burning cigarette and looked around as if looking for someone or perhaps a way out of the conversation.

"Studying, medicine. Gunna be a doctor."

"Shit!"

"Na, it's pretty good actually. Hey look I gotta go ..."