St Martin’s was clean, you could say that at least. Apart from the
fine mist of leg hair, that is.
from “That Girl”, in The Gate Theory
This story is like a travelogue of my time in Fiji. I lived near a graveyard like the one I describe in the story, one festooned with decaying saris and scarves.
I travelled to Raki Raki where the grave of the so-called Last Cannibal sits.
Actually, go read my story Circling Fiji (an actual travelogue) in Lee Harris’ Hub Magazine.
Then read ‘That Girl’, and you will feel as if you’ve travelled with me.