Due to the average pay for freelance writers in Australia, I moonlight as a disability support worker. My job takes me all over Perth’s southern suburbs, particularly the Cockburn Gateway area (aka the zone of intersections). There I drive my clients between Hungry Jacks, the youth centre and ice cream parlours, or between the two service stations, one of which a client believes sells “exclusive” Chupa Chups.
What’s remarkable about this Möbius strip of merging lanes and outlet stores is the baking heat it manages to conjure, even on an average 25-30 degree day. Like a lot of Perth’s snaking suburbs and shopping-carpark gulags, there is little to no shade here, and beneath the traffic’s churn of SUV exhaust fumes is an ever-present, oh-so-radiant heat.
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