Unnamed Journal Volume 2 Issue 6 - Page 15

“Ooh, you’re sharp! Yeah, I moved to Sydney from Perth. Not a lot in Perth.” “So,” Wendy said, as she started hula-hooping again, “what’s in Sydney?” “Oh, you know, just my job and my stuff.” “Hey, Giles?” “Eh?” “I’m gonna go walk up and see if I can figure out how long it’ll be before we get in,” Ulysses said. He turned to Wendy and said, “Nice to meet you.” “Take care,” she said waving. And with that, Ulysses wandered past the truck and up the line of parked cars. “Fucking Giles the Wonder-Aussie,” he muttered. + + + Ulysses walked up to the gate. The entrance looked roughly the same as other burns he’d been too, just bigger. There were a lot of people around, all of them rocking various modes of dress. The only commonality amongst the styles was an attempt to achieve maximum comfort in the heat. Most of the burners in the entry way belonged to one of the many vehicles making their way onto the site. Some milled about, others stood and watched closely as their vehicles were searched for stowaways. All manner of supplies could be seen inside the cars and trucks, everything from the pragmatic to the decadent. The rest of the people by the gate were the volunteers who struggled to wring order from the chaos of the assemble caravan. The volunteers formed three groups: those who registered incoming attendees, those who directed traffic, and those who searched incoming vehicles. Despite their combined efforts, the line of cars hadn’t budged yet. Now that he was by the entrance Ulysses could see why. At the head of the line there was a heavily modified school bus that had a flat tire. People stood around commenting on the immovable bus, while some volunteers, one with a walky-talky, were embroiled in trying to figure out how to extricate the thing. “I’m telling you, getting a tow truck in here is going to take a while. Your best bet is get all your shit out and start carrying it in.” Said a tall middle-aged woman with a walkie-talkie.