So it goes without saying I blackout that night. I wake up with this dark, thick goo on my face. Maybe my body is producing ectoplasm now, sure, why not?
Bruce is asleep, faraway, unwakeable. I have a shower in his bathroom, slathering my sore body in all kinds of crazy, exotic gels and washes.
I try to make coffee on his stove-top press but I forget to put part of the filter in and coffee explodes all over his kitchen. This is so fucked.
As I leave his apartment, I get this awful feeling I’ve left something on or left something behind or something really bad is gonna happen because I can’t do anything right.
Soon I’m on the tram going home. My stop approaches but it feels too soon… I can’t move. It passes.
Soon we’re moving through a part of the city I’ve never been to. The tram moves onto a light rail system and eventually stops at this random station in the middle of nowhere.
There is this tiny, moribund house near the platform. It looks totally crusty yet twee and cottagey.
There’s something about it so hilarious and terrifying… Of course I ended up here. I’m a magnet for stuff like this.
Maybe one day I’ll live here.
Michael Hawkins is a Melbourne-dwelling comic book and visual artist of Tasmanian and U.S. derivation. He believes in mystery.
Keep an eye out for more instalments from 'Ursula’, and for Michael Hawkins’ cover art for The Lifted Brow #28, which we launch in Melbourne on 27 November.