I go outside and see the culprit: this hairball cluster of what used to be a robin, one wing torqued stiff like a bent toilet brush, its tiny bird feet gone or sucked so far into its gut as to be invisible. I think about picking it up and wrapping it in newsprint and burying it back where we keep the garbage and recycle cans but I don’t do any of that. Instead I go inside and pour more coffee and then the next bird crashes into the window, only I’m watching clear-eyed as this one kisses it hard. That’s the problem with having windows that are too clean: it’s as if nothing’s there, no barrier or separation, while in the end it’s the very thing which does you in.picture window
When the bacon and eggs and toast were ready and the three of them were sitting around the table he tore off the wrapping greedily.
“It’s laser tag,” said his dad. “It’s a good one.”
“Like Phantom Zone?”
“Yeah, like the place we went for Benny’s birthday. It’s got four sets in there so you can have a big game.”
The boy opened the box and slid out the foam-packed contents onto the table, expertly picking out the Japanese batteries and placing them in the handles of the guns.the boy with the lizard egg
We haven't cleaned the gutters yet. There’s dry scrub sticking out like mossy pubes from a nanna's cossie.
Dry scrub wishing for embers. This valley is a firebowl and we know it but we cook our pork chops and we steam our rice and we watch A Current Affair.
Rob says he would stay and fight. He reckons he could hide under the rock ledge in the basement and the fire would pass him by. I say he's a fool. Anyone knows this house is a matchbox.a movement in a moment