‘And how long have you been driving that there, uh…’ the policeman looked down at his notes, scanning them for the name.
‘The Isadora,’ I grumbled from beneath the space blanket they’d insisted on throwing over me. ‘Her name is the Isadora.’
‘Is that right,’ the cop nodded. He looked past me to where the charcoal-dusted hull of my vehicle was being loaded onto the back of a truck. ‘Might need a new name after this particular… incident.’
‘Just needs a new coat of paint, some light tweaking,’ I shrugged. ‘She’ll be good as new.’
The cop frowned at me and shared a look with his partner.
‘Son,’ he started, and I preemptively rolled my eyes. ‘Son, have you ever been to a decent mechanic around the Milperra area?’
I shook my head. ‘These aren’t my parts. I was just passing through.’
‘Well, I hate to break it to you, but they might be your parts for a little while yet. Unless you know a truly incredible mechanic, that baby ‘aint flying nowhere.’
I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off by the bumper falling off the vehicle and bouncing along the ground.
‘Fine,’ I grumbled. ‘Can you recommend anyone?’
‘Sure,’ the cop said, adjusting his pants. ‘What’s your budget?’
‘Depends.’
‘On?’
I picked up the bumper and dusted some charcoal off the side.
‘How much do you think I can get for this as scrap?’
The cops started to laugh, and I threw the bumper to the side with a sigh.
‘Quick,’ the partner guffawed, wiping a tear from his eye. ‘If you go rip out one of the headlights, I know a great auto electrician near me who can sort you out, no issues!’
That set them off again, cackling to each other like they were the system’s best new comedy duo.
I threw the space blanket off me with a growl, and began to walk away.
‘Hey, where are you going?’ the first cop called after me.
‘To find a way off this rock!’

‘Why did you want to meet?’ Gordon asked, wrapping his coat around himself as the winter air swept through the open building. He remembered when this area had been a thriving development – now it was a graveyard of abandoned construction, graffiti and men meeting on rooftops at midnight.
I was rushing to get to work the other day and I did some real damage to my car. I only had ten minutes to get to work and I was about a thirty-minute drive away, so there was obviously no hope of me getting there on time. That’s because I decided to do my skincare routine instead of actually leaving the house on time. Yes, I know that I should have gotten up earlier this morning but I slept so poorly and bed just felt so good. We all make mistakes, I guess.
I’m a nurse and I work really crazy hours. For context, I have three possible shift times (but they always end up going into overtime), which are 7:00am-3:00pm, 1:00pm-9:00pm or 9:00pm-7:00am. I cycle through these shift times over the monthly roster and it’s really important that I can get to and from work easily with my car. As a woman, I’ve grown up fearing being alone at night or in the dark, so I definitely wouldn’t want to catch public transport and walk home alone for any of these shifts. It’s just not safe – especially in my nurse’s scrubs.
I just turned eighteen, and I only just got my licence. I took the test pretty much as soon as I was able to, because I’m really excited to have more freedom. I’ve had a job for a while now, which means that I’ve been able to save up enough money to buy my own car. It’s only a second-hand car and it isn’t in the best condition, but it’s still mine and I’m still proud of it and how much effort I put into getting it.
I’m on the train again because my car is still in for a service. My car has been at the mechanic for over a week now, because it’s in such a bad state. The mechanic said there was nothing I could have done to minimise the chance of this major mechanical fault happening to my car. He said some people just have bad luck and unfortunately I am one of those people.
‘You do know that your car is 
I gritted my teeth as James drove us over yet another