News — GroveAtlantic

Fifteen years ago, a homeless man in Australia took against me one night when I was walking home on my own, and he pummeled my head with an unidentifiable object while I, hands on head, scrambled—ill-advisedly, I can see that now—into a small clearing under some bushes. When he had finished pummeling my head he disappeared, and I ran out of the bushes towards a taxi rank which was the only source of help in a deserted little town. Waiting for an ambulance, on a bench with my head in my hands, my hands filled with bright blood and blood...