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A small girl stands on the foot platform of a pram, facing forwards and reaching an arm above the roof. She talks and makes slow, considered movements with her hand, as if explaining a difficult concept.
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A blue cattle dog crosses the road on a lead. A ruler-straight line runs down the centre of its face and muzzle, and everything on one side is black.
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A woman with short grey hair stands rapping a hand against her thigh as she watches the traffic. She has short grey hair and a yellow ochre dress with matching bag. One eyebrow is up, and her face implies that nothing good will come of this.
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A small boy makes a break for it, running flat out through Triangle Park in Dee Why. His mother thunders after him, spectacles awry and sandals slapping on the concrete. At the edge of the road she catches him, and they cross together.
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Good Times
Upstairs at Abbey’s: Star Wars and The Language Bookshop, Sydney

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Reptilian Russian, a repto,
Sends force, unprepared and inepto,
To ransack the store
Of the nation next door
In the classic, Attack of the Klepto. -
Hard Times
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Three families are off to the Easter Show on a day that promises rain. A girl arrives at the stop in rabbit ears, hopping and grinning. Another breaks into a spontaneous dance. Above such childish things, a young teen swishes crisp, flared trouser hems bare millimetres from the ground, ready to wow those farmyard animals in the mud.
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A young man, blonde, wears a briar thicket of dreadlocks at the back of his cap. He has a black umbrella.
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A woman brings her emotional baggage onto the bus, in a labelled shoulder bag.
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Bicycles hang like bats on a Dee Why balcony.
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Trapped in a stroller on the bus, a child throws back her head and strains against the harness, threatening to eject her new blue dummy. She wears a pink top, multi-coloured leggings, and brown pigtails touching her jaw.
She twists to the side. The dummy’s about to blow when a phone appears in her hands and she looks down at the screen. Her body relaxes. One hand rises to clasp a pigtail between thumb and forefinger and remains there, twisting a strand, pulling gently.
The dummy stirs in thoughtful sucks.
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Reflection

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Putin’s trains run on secretive tracks,
Lest his populace venture attacks.
Russia’s fearful and grim,
But it terrifies him,
And the tyrant can never relax. -
Echo

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A man rides an electric scooter through Triangle Park in Dee Why. He wears a t-shirt and thongs and light, baggy boxers patterned with spots. They flap in the wind. His daughter, standing in front with hands between his on the handlebar, is a black-haired, skinny nine-year old in blue tracksuit pants and a red top. Her fringe is straight and her eyes are deep, and dark, and everywhere.
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A tall, brown-haired schoolgirl walks the pedestrian way in easy strides. Her top is white and her backpack is blue, like her long, skinny trousers. She shakes her head and lifts one arm in a gesture, moving her lips in silent rehearsal or review. Now and then, a syllable goes live.
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Two very old ladies are on a mission, powering along Dee Why Parade with walking sticks, urgent looks and identical rolling gaits. Their height and hair colour match but not their outfits. One wears a kind of mesh with black lace over dark slacks, but the other is almost casual by comparison. They exchange terse comments.
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A middle-aged man in York Street: grey trousers, light blue t-shirt, short hair pinched on top and held with a rubber band. He lights a cigarette. His coffee rests on a garbage bin and he lurks there, watching the street.
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A father is trying to shop in Aldi while his smiling daughter clings to the trolley and walks her shoes up the chiller shelves. The girl has dark hair, red-framed glasses, red corduroy jeans and a pink jumper. As they turn a corner she still hangs on but the red corduroys are at full stretch, one leg behind and balanced on a toe, the other foot wedged on the trolley.
The father remains grimly focused.
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A Ghost Gum (I think).

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If Putin were vegetable, gee,
What manner of plant would he be?
As a poisonous seed
He could grow to a weed,
But he’d never amount to a tree. -
Established

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A youngish woman prowls along the bus like an angry bird. She has short, curly blonde hair and eyes locked in a frown.
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Strange white installations rise from a cruise ship’s deck at Circular Quay. They look like giant cotton buds. Proof of Covid testing.