Tumbleweeds blow through sharehouses in Newtown.
The Marly is unrecognisable on a friday night, gone are the kaleidoscope of blue and white authoritarian lights on crackdown.
The sleeveless puffer vests lay dormant in the cupboard all afternoon.
What has caused this apocalypse? June.
Just take a look aroun’
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Writing a limerick is the closest I will get to Europe this summer.
There was an exodus.
Europe was calling, calling, calling.
Many answered the call.
We were those left behind.
This is our ode.
As the amount of sun time decreased, my screen time increased. Endless green lights shimmering with the lures of Eurosummer content. Despite the writers strike there was no shortage of content.
As the pilgrims return, and the reunions are had, stories of Europe regaled, don’t reminisce of what you missed because it’s time for a round of Eurosummer bingo!