Different

It was much after dusk. I was walking back home from the library through the deserted roads of Hurstville... At a distance there was a gigantic hoarding lit up with red lights, announcing my proximity to the Westfield shopping town. Right before me was St George's hospital. Wearing the same deserted look unlike Indian hospitals, where hordes of people maunder in and out of the wide gates with every kind of expression human faces are capable of wearing. There I walked amazed at the huge turn my life has taken. Nothing's the same here in Oz land. Not even me, but I'm not uncomfortable with the change.