PartyThe night gleams as brightly as day. Each stone of the gravel driveway shines in the moonlight like a beacon. Cassie stays close to the fence line in the meagre shadows.
All afternoon she complained of a headache, did her best to sniffle as though she was full of mucus, and talked as though her throat was filled with razor blades. Her ruse was successful enough for her mother to tell her to stay away from Ida; she couldn’t afford to get sick. After tea, moaning and grizzling with a box of tissues, Cassie went to her bedroom and stuffed her bed with clothes. She’s too old for her mother to check on her in the night. She hopes.
Cassie’s lips are warm, the lip gloss gooey and thick on her lips. The night air drifts slightly chill and tinged with the smell of bush fires that have burned
