The sun shimmers in the bamboo and dappled light falls through, staining Fred’s face different shades of gold in the morning. He wanders up the long driveway to check the rainwater tank. The tank blocks out the view of the gumtrees behind it, and throws shade onto the grassy nests below. Snakes lean on it to capture the sun, and the warmth of the concrete.
Thursday night football training; bright lights illuminate the cool grass. Colin knows the feeling of those grass blades pointing into his flesh, sticking into his skin. They’re sharp and they slice the fragile layer of cells and moisture on his body.