Mr. Prince was a thin, tired man. He was more interested in food and such than in anything else. He said he was considering selling up – developers ...ere interested."Because of Banjo?" I asked."Yes. There was a movie and now folks are more interested in him. We read some of his poems when I was at school." "Most likely sang at least one." "Eh?" "Banjo Paterson wrote 'Waltzing Mathilda'." "Garn!," Mrs. Prince added."No, really. I brought the poems with me. I'll show you it later." We washed up. Needless to say, I drove to her place pretty darn quick. Walking in, I expect you to be waiting at the door like a puppy. If you were as turned on as I was, all damn day, I’d be waiting at the door for you. But you weren’t there. I say… “Hi. You here?” I hear your reply from down the hall, “I’m in the tub. Come here.” I walk in and see you in the middle of taking a bubble bath. The half of a bottle of wine tells me you’ve been here for awhile. You look at me as I admire your soft wet. More

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