“Howsitgointoday?”
“Going? To die?”
“No - today.”
“Toodai?”
“How. Are. You. Today?”
“Aah…” recognition rippled across my students’ faces, “you mean today?”

“Wayne…! Help …!”
My fingers ached as I grasped tightly onto each handhold, my feet wedged against a tiny ledge.
“Wayne! I’m … stuck…”
“You know, it would’ve been easier to just walk back,” Reason whispered in my ear.

October 1991: I was on a raft, floating down a river in Nepal, the Himalayan mountains towering majestically above me. I was in that hazy, dreamy state, feeling tranquil and highly receptive to an epiphany…
“Forward paddle, forward paddle!”
Our river guide’s orders jolted me back to reality. We were about to propel ourselves into the swirling waters ahead of us. I gripped the oar and wedged my foot against the inside of the raft.
This was no time for daydreaming - the epiphany would have to wait.

“Hi, my friend and I are in Garigal National Park and …..we’re kinda lost.
"...We’ve been walking around for two hours and just can’t find our way out!”
Shaz listened intently to the police instructions on the mobile phone.
“We don’t actually want to be rescued,” she informed the officer, “We just want to be pointed in the right direction.”

There aren’t many people you can call at 2am when you arrive in town unannounced.
There was only one aunt I could phone without alarming her at that hour of the morning – but she wasn’t listed in the phone directory. Neither was her married son who lived upstairs.