Trouser legs tucked into socks, helmet dangling uselessly from his left handlebar, the middle-aged cyclist made his way back along the suburban street. Thirty minutes earlier he’d wheeled past in the opposite direction – presumably to enjoy an economical lunch at home. Left over roast lamb from last night? Two minute noodles? A tuna sandwich? The friendly black and white cat with the tinkling bell wasn’t rushing up to smell his breath, so who could know…
Neighbours emerged, one by one, to check their mail or shuffle off towards the shops. A tradesman attempted to enter a house, his knock met by nobody but the aforementioned feline who sensed activity at its food portal.
Slanting raindrops made their way down to the ground and damped the asphalt, then stopped and evaporated almost as quickly as they had fallen. A light wind tickled the rustling trees lining the street. Boomgates clanged and trains hummed along nearby. Wattle birds chirruped their annoyance at an encroaching bird of a different feather, and distant sounds of a crane moving lumber travelled through the air.
Long periods of peaceful inactivity were broken by the hand in hand progress of two young lovers and the playful activities of the local mouser, startled into a jangling frenzy by the revenge of a large piece of bark loosed from the tree trunk it assaulted.
Later, the street would buzz with the sounds of sport blaring from enormous flat screen televisions. But for now, it patiently waited and watched the warm afternoon’s lazy progress.
Featured in The Breakfast Club &
VAVoom! Vibration in Art and Verse.