by Amy Galea The café opened the year I began university. I’d moved away from the western suburbs of Sydney, away from where café atmosphere only existed in franchise coffee clubs in the centre of a Westfield mall. This café was complete with a long wooden community table that had antlers resting along its middle. There was a clothing boutique up a steep set of stairs, and the lighting: swinging light bulbs. It played as an introduction to the world of specialty coffee houses for me and my new city. It was here that I saw him.
by Elisa Parry It had been the kind of day where I needed a good wine, a good rant and a chicken schnitzel please. I put the call out for reinforcements and within the hour was safely ensconced in a pub. ‘Can I give you a hug?’ asked my friend. ‘You can, but