I am walking, alone in the dead of night, watching a halo of starlight softly dust Centrepoint's crest, beams grazing the sides before falling to Earth. I pick up the pace as I reach the halfway point, breathing heavily and letting my briefcase swing like a pendulum from my right arm.
There aren't many people about; mainly barflies and shift-workers, a few stragglers and some of Sydney's homeless. I pass by one of the transients, he's lolling drunkenly on a bench. I'm caught by suprise when he emits a rapid-fire slur in my direction.
The first part of his message is unclear - lost in translation - I can tell he's swearing, but aside from that, I can't make out his meaning.
The second half of his statement is clear, eerie on a sullen night;
"You're living in a fantasy land".
He spits this phrase with hatred and venom, glaring directly into my eye, and while I continue walking he snarls it several times at my heels.
The clarity of his intention are a shock to my system, juxtaposed against his unshaven, drool-encrusted jowl. The words hit hard because I have spoken them to myself many, many times, over, and over, silently.
"You're living in a fantasy land".
