Cement steps banged into metal railings as Robert Riley and I climbed to my second floor apartment. The key, newly cut, fit awkwardly in the lock. When I opened the door, I was confronted by the sudden smell of newly shampooed carpet and mildew, and dust motes floated in sunbeams that penetrated the single dirty window.
Read MoreNewman is a town of well nigh three and half thousand partly transient people eleven hundred kilometers north-east of Perth, Western Australia. It lies in the middle of the Pilbara, and area bigger than Belgium with massive contrasts. An ancient land dotted with mining towns built on the cusp of the mining boom, a boom where there is no sense of slowing.
Read MoreLately, I've been taking my lunch breaks with a guy whose real name is Clarence Dooley but everybody calls Backhoe. Or Backdoorhoe. Or Crackhoe. Depending how the foreman's treating us that day.
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