No one heard the woman talking to herself, to her dog, it was harmless. The old woman lived behind them, off the long drive-way they all shared, tall weeds grew along the fence from lazy dug pits of sand and it blew everywhere in the wind and scraped the ground beneath their thongs. The men padlocked the gate that accessed each other’s yards but still asked How are ya in the mornings if they passed. She told her dog about being young, having lived near-by and having climbed Castle Hill before they made so many tracks up there, her and sisters took a white pillow case with them and used it to signal to their mother once they reached the top. This when kids had spirit. Each day she watched scaffolding grow higher across town and a building within it, it was on top of her old house she thought, she could tell by where it sat on the skyline. They had different visions for the future then, and although it happened eventually that the town erected long walls of concrete across from them: government departments, banks, energy companies; this was not until she was late in her teens, and when she went down that road, she could still project memories of family and siblings frolic on the yard that now fell into itself, there had once been a fence, and the front deck that was now half decayed, she could remember, had once been half erect when she was only a small girl, built by her father within a year. She had not gone to see it now that she thought it was gone, there was no stage left for her old life and she found that she did not have the strength to cling so stubbornly to meaning anymore. The world breathed in and then it breathed out and she made up the final moments of a long exhale.

In the night they were quiet, she and her dog, on her back patio, in her yard, in the middle of yards all around. Neighbours hosted evening barbecues for the holy affair of State of Origin and she sat with her television on in the back room and listened to it just over the friendly argy-bargy that went on in the surround. The gray evening rested on her backyard and seemed to authenticate her old shed and the wooden palings up against it, pulled from the fence by her grandson who stopped by every so often when the family went up and down the coast. To say they had raised him wrong would be too easy because they were so embarrassed when they saw what happened and they flogged him badly in front of her to make sure she knew that He doesn’t get away with this sort of nonsense Mum, I’ll fix it up for you right now. No don’t worry love I’ll just have Rob fix it tomorrow, he helps me some afternoons and he’s always disappointed when there’s nothing to do, I like the excuse to give him some pocket money. But somehow it never ended up happening. She heard the whistle for kick-off from every television in range and settled in and she had forgotten to feed him but he was content laying in his chair and he could do with the wait, it would keep the devil from becoming so spoilt.

As it went on headlights panned across the block and bent shadows around human figures and anything left lying about. There were friendly exchanges with pizza boys who disguised their indifference by asking who was winning and saying by way of goodbye Up the Maroons. It only took so long for the children to filter through side gates and onto the road where they played their own game on the grassy footpaths. My Dad said we could only play two-handed touch. Gay. Yeah let’s play tackle. Well it’s my Dad’s party. Okay so go tell him then. And eventually it was a forgotten free for all; in bands of cousins, school peers, siblings and sports mates they invented causes to align for and fight against and went at it in the street with the childlike hatred that was funner than hell. She smiled listening to them while their parents were so far gone already, heard husbands and wives sharing intimate stories about night time farts, peeing in the shower, anal sex and the last time they shared a cone together. Not invited, but most welcome, was her new boyfriend who a lot of them thought would finally be good for her, from New South Wales, he played the role of the heel graciously, happy to accept the banter that was all a bit of getting-to-know-you, she said That’s just how they are don’t take it personally. Nah it’s good value it reminds me of my mates back home. They must be spewing tonight mate? Oh yeah I’ve already got a few texts. Does your young fella play? Yeah I signed him up with Brothers he’s been there a few months now, they’ve got him at five-eighth. He’s a good little player I was watching them before over the fence. He is yeah but he needs to have a little more faith in himself, his game goes up and down too much, or he might have a good game and then he drops the ball once and mate he just gets himself worked up. Comes with age. Yeah he’ll be right. And there was not much more, they watched the game and the children slowly came to find them and sat in their camp chairs scrolling through Mum’s phone and none of the teenagers had spoken to each other yet, when they got up to leave they had to round the rest of them up who were still in the street and sorely disappointed to be going home.

On the way home they were lulled to sleep in the back by the white noise of the tyres, only Wednesday, school tomorrow, Come on mate. Hm? You’re right go back to sleep. And they carried them inside. After they went to the toilet and he nibbled at the cold snags left in the fridge and she sat up on her phone for a bit and they had the television on and the lamps dimmed they decided that they were too tired to have sex, and he could get on top of her if she really wanted but it would only be for a few seconds because he didn’t have the energy for the all the give and take they were hoping for, but she was fine with going to sleep and they would just have to make it up to each other tomorrow. They kissed and she reached over to touch him around the waist and he rolled over and kissed her for a little longer and in that way they both apologised and went to sleep.