Ten stubbies lonely, 2 cans of vodka mix confused, and numerous bottle-tops of I can’t be bothered.

One walk under trees, stripes of darker colour versus lighter colour, birds singing, kangaroos leaping off into the shadows of the low trees, and one track to walk down.

One dark room, a morning partly gone, a sleeping person.

Three cups of coffee, an early conversation as the dawn breaks, a “note to self” to clean out a fridge. A time to write something else, a check of a wristwatch, thirty seconds of thought, a short calculation and just over thirty minutes to go.

A slight snore, a shift of a foot.

Another item added to the mental list of things to do. Dishes, or sorting clothes, or freshening up a living room. A silent wink to no one in particular. A grumbling tummy, and it’s time to get moving.

A rustle of bedsheets and a soft snort of dreaming laughter.

I’ll leave you to it.