For Oscar, the streets of England were cold and grey and lonely.
He’d known them for 21 years. Then he didn’t.
In the blink of an eye, relatively speaking, he found himself in Sydney’s trendiest suburb. Sydney’s hottest place to be. Sydney’s only place to be.
Here the streets bustled with style and sex appeal. Tattooed guys with jaded expressions smoked rolled up cigarettes outside cool cafes. Muscled men in tight shorts and t-shirts held hands and walked small dogs. Groups of scantily clad boys danced in the blazing sunlight on their way to the next party.
Colour was everywhere. Blue skies. Purple-flowered trees. Green grass. Rainbow flags flapping in the gentle breeze.
And a house. A huge, three-storey terrace home, slanted on the hills that gave the suburb its name.
Here Oscar finally realised what he’d been searching for all those years down all those unfriendly streets.
Even if it meant finding out the hard way.
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Jack Ladd 