Anna Spargo-Ryan sits at her kitchen table and writes while shouting at the cats to get off the bench. She enjoys love and madness and foil-wrapped chocolate. She has written for Kill Your Darlings, Overland, Tincture Journal, The Wheeler Centre, The Guardian and other rad places. Her first novel, The Paper House, was published by Picador in June 2016.
There used to be a takeaway pizza restaurant on Waverley Road, where the tram ended. You weren’t really supposed to eat there, but the owner had put a little vinyl table by the window and there were four chairs and a holder in the middle for the serviettes.
In the cooler months in the city, Zia and I caught the free tram to borrow books from the library. We sat in the winter sun and whispered the same generalities about the piqued warmth of it, coming as it did across the skyscrapers and into a pool on the library lawn.
As luck would have it, the day before I was due to file this piece I ended up the emergency room with my ten-year-old daughter. She was burning up, had stomach pains. The fever clocked in at forty degrees. They took pieces of her away for testing. They stuck needles in her. I sat by her bed and we put our heads very close to the TV remote’s speaker and from time to time, people came to make sure she was okay.