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smell a rat
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revisited oeuvre “smell a rat”
He wandered past the pub windows,
their yellow light spilling onto the footpath,
and felt the weight of the day
shift in his chest.
No gold, no promise,
just the steady fact
that he’d been chasing a story
someone else had finished
a long time ago.
He mentioned gold,
half‑joking, half‑hopeful.
The bloke snorted,
tapped ash off his boot,
said he could be smell the rat
from Ballarat
before the words even left his mouth.
.
their yellow light spilling onto the footpath,
and felt the weight of the day
shift in his chest.
No gold, no promise,
just the steady fact
that he’d been chasing a story
someone else had finished
a long time ago.
He mentioned gold,
half‑joking, half‑hopeful.
The bloke snorted,
tapped ash off his boot,
said he could be smell the rat
from Ballarat
before the words even left his mouth.
.
