Me and Destiny Man were sitting down having a drink and talking about things like old friends do. Except he’s not an old friend. Just a figment of Myle’s imagination that has somehow filtered into mine. We’ve agreed that he does not look like a guy with spiky hair in a headband. But beyond that, there’s not much else to say.

‘So,’ he says. ‘Last day eh?’

No, it’s tomorrow.

‘I see.’

You’ll never guess who’s going to be replacing me once I’m gone.

‘Really now?’

Oh that’s right. I forgot. Of course you can.

It’s hard having a conversation with know-it-all. It’s even harder when he actually does know all. But the truth is, I never had this conversation. It’s made up. I don’t really have conversations with imaginary characters. I just use them as devices in my writing. To set a mood. A tone. Maybe just to make things a little more interesting. Because I’m a wanker.

So anyway, I was walking past my boss’ office yesterday, which at the time was closed because he was interviewing someone who had been suggested for my soon-to-be-replaced position by my work colleague.

So he calls me through the glass and I open the door to his office and he’s saying I believe you two know each other.

And in one of those ‘ohmigod’ moments, it turns out to be Matthew freakin’ Keany. An old high school pal. Bloody hell. What are the chances. And to top it of, his wife also happens to be a high school friend of the boss’ son’s wife.

Chance and coincidence? Or Destiny Man?

We started off in high school doing FRED, the school newspaper. We also both drew comics. He still draws now. I’ve now stopped. So now, eight years down the track, he’s taking over my spot.

He says ‘well you’ve been here five years – there’s gotta be something to that.’

And I say ‘well yes um er yeah.’