Alice Springs is a slow town. And sleepy.
lost in the middle of nowhere.
A road. Some
shop.
Aboriginal Art Galleries.
The dry bed of a river running through it.
Muddy.
The hostel is a seaport.
People come and go.
overnight.
Before venturing into the wilderness.
And instead I'm staying.
To enjoy this last sip of Australia.
hammock.
under the sun.
A book. And tea.
Far from everything and everyone.
Alone with the sun. And my thoughts.
And when they are too noisy.
out there waiting for me there is all humanity.
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