”“And might I have your card ... you’ve mine.”With that I went off for a dumpling lunch downstairs at Mr. Wong on Bridge Street. I then walked...back on Bridge to the Sydney Museum and north on Phillip to the Justice and Police Museum. I’d seen a poster about an exhibit called “Bushrangers behind Bars” and was curious. It was only open on weekends.I walked back to the Sydney Museum and went to the desk where a volunteer asked whether I was a member.“I don’t know. Can you look it up?”“Usually. But. With a renting-akin and shredding-alike sound, the tie ghosts and slips off the collar, heading on to swirl and whirl and twirl its way freely and liberally in the slack, untethered, and unconfined air. While he wheels and spins himself around on his two staid and stabilized feet, Preston tosses and pitches the tie away so he can briskly and speedily commence to untie and unbridle the buttons of his jacket. Having slung and lobbed it down to the floor, he breaks off from swinging round-about. More

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