TRENT DALTON ON LOVE
It was a Wednesday when I found the meaning of my life. Bloody hard thing to find. Searched everywhere. Four decades of seeking. Tried to find it in star systems and love songs and bank balances and kissed lips. Then I found it on the corner of Adelaide and Albert Streets, Brisbane, where spinning leaves fell on my writing hat and a junkie couple fought over a lunchtime tuna can and a fulsome cloud shaped like a human heart drifted north across the muddy Brisbane River. This glorious and restorative find was the product of two months spent asking 200 CBD strangers to tell me stories of love.
Call it my defiant middle
