We finished our coffee and headed down to Marty’s office. My heels click-clacked as we made our way to his door. Just for old-times sake I walked in...without knocking. Marty jumped when I entered, then rolled his eyes. ‘Geez, Shannon, why can’t you knock like everyone else?’ I giggled. ‘I’m just, wike, keeping you on your toes and stuff, you know?’ I fumed inside. What came out of my mouth these days bore almost no resemblance to what I was actually trying to say. ‘I don’t need to be on my toes!. " I was very stubborn: if it was my journal, then it was my journal. There might be spelling errors to be corrected (there weren't), but otherwise it was mine. And I was still reading the Keneally, and getting ever more irritated by the behavio(u)r of the authoritative British. [That "(u)" is for you, Mr. Simmonds!]My dad's a patriot, I guess, but he's friendly to everyone. Rachel's part Japanese. There are aboriginal friends in Queensland. But Australia wasn't "empty" when the English invaded,. More

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