The Origin

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve spent every summer in Philip Island, Victoria, at my Nonni’s beach house. Every day blurred into the other as tan lines bloomed on our olive skin, covered our innocent faces in ice cream after ice cream and burnt our feet on the sand running to shore. Nights were spent along the jetty and at the carnival, where the same crowd returned every year under the multi-coloured lights to put on a show for those of us frequenting the island.

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The same hands grabbing tickets from the booths, the same seatbelts keeping us in place, the same prizes to be won –

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And always, the same people.