A steamy, steamy Perth night.
The kind that Tim Winton writes about.
We made some DIY aircon.
But, we may have used it more than our guests…
Helps to be local I guess.
A woman waited patiently reading her Fringe guide as others buzzed around her. Ready, she entered. And left with a hug.
A pregnant woman who grappled with the thought of her unborn child being 20 yrs old.
A patterned shirt that had travelled from Zanzibar shed a tear or two.
A returnee with her mother and sister who exclaimed their love for typewriters.
A golden-hearted spirit in a purple skirt came and had speckled eyes before she entered. She was beautiful and asked for more tissues before leaving.
A sceptic thespian sat and was semi-bullied into taking aMoment. He did and left with a warm smile and thanks.
A girl reached for her partners knee when she first heard the voice and looked into his eyes.
A man with green eyes and the warmest sense.
An eager beaver took his time listening outside and made us a heart that floated in the breeze.
Two friends who gratefully allowed the caravan to reside on their verge for a few months visited and finally found out what it was all about.
A big smile I haven’t seen in one of them for ages. Relief.
A woman who was nervous began crying before entering the caravan. A sensitive soul.
A handy fellow used his torch to read the notes as it got darker and darker.
And a sneaky last moment with a lady who wanted to dance with headphones on…but soon stopped when she began to listen.
And we finished early.
A wee bit sweaty but many a warm moments had.