(no subject)
Mario comes and sits on the new lawn. The grass here is different from the rest of the garden, it is dark and dense like cut hair. Tess, plagued by hayfever, is talking to the flowers somewhere. We eat in the garden every night, we are displaced, our parents gone. Inside, the lamps come on and we drink and watch tennis. The sky is neon pink, I am getting a book down for Mario when a mouse comes in from the garden, looks around, and runs out again.