marcelle liemant

Monty should probably have stayed in the desert. Going home, to Melbourne, was a mistake. Home has too many memories, too many people and at home, trying to live without ties to anything, proves to be a hard philosophy to hold up.

In the desert it was easy to focus on the wonder in the regular and nothing else. And the last thing Monty wants to focus on is themselves.

Home means confronting lost love, and possible new love, old ties, old feelings and powerful urges. It means wild, irresponsible fun with crazy, loyal and loving friends, but also judgement and pressure, however well-intentioned, to move on, and stick around.

But how can you move on when your only love is still living in your old house, with somebody new? If you could just destroy the house, maybe? Burn it to the ground, perhaps? But you can't do that with them in it? Can you?

***

Monty is a compelling novelette, spanning one autumn night filled with cigarettes, offbeat friends and house fires. And by the end of it Monty has reached a decision, but is it the right one?