摘要：Identity is funny that way. Seeing my foundations reflected in plexiglass, felt in the blow of a single white ball shot from the goalie travelling the field and reaching its destiny untouched by foreign obstacles— odd, to say the least. -from ‘The Fooseball Table1’ I can feel the sun on my face, and though I once lost the pigment of my nose due to excessive sunburning, I embrace the sun on my cream-less skin and my hat-less head. I shouldn’t, I know better, but it’s a new winter’s sun in Adelaide and it’s perfect. Dash wanders in and out of our shed to listen to the footy coming from the speaker we’ve positioned outside. His team is winning. He’s loving his team and his afternoon beer.
