Chapter 9
Currawongs called to each other from the tree line that separated the park from the footy oval, while a family of galahs played somersaulting games on the grassy slope. By ten o’clock on Saturday morning, the local kids were split into three groups: the footy players warming up for their game, their younger siblings left to entertain themselves together in the park, and the inevitable spattering of kids who refused to join in with anything but had been dragged along anyway, their faces bathed in phone light. Over by the rubbish bin, the old homeless guy who always hung around the park was tossing bread to the ducks. Good to know the bakery still gave him the previous day’s leftovers for breakfast.
Wet grass clippings stuck to my boots as I headed back to where Bane and Tim were
