Haaagley Park. Acres and acres for the helicopter to chase us now that my car’s busted and I’ve hopped out the sunroof and bolted ’cause the doors got all jammed up. Hidey-hidey from the helis in Hagley, hininin. Lights on my back, lights in fronta me. Spotlight on Jadey. I could do a heaps better job flying that helicopter. Stupid dumb little piggies. OINK OINK OINK. Think they can take me here; they’re off their rocker. That’s an expression my mum used to say when she was in Sunnyside Hospital. I’ve gone off my rocker, son, she used to go once a year, popping her meds out of their blister packs and mixing them up with poppy juice into a big ol’ soup. ‘Sunnyside’ll be here soon, son. Look after your sister.’
hinininI’ve gone off my rockerThe night sky is purple and the helicopter shudder
