TWENTY-ONE (Goshawk)

When I was eight I tattooed a pair of lips onto the side of my face. I was looking for love.

It was 1996, the year of the Atlanta Olympics. I remember this because the McDonalds up the road were giving away free Olympics hats with your meal. But not just any meal, a grownups meal. I had my eye on the maroon hat, I don’t know why, perhaps even then I knew I was a Queenslander at heart.

My older brother and I spent a whole week trying not to fight – at least not in front of Mum – so she’d give...