Fuck Off

Dusk was blue, red and pearly white above the sea. I headed away from the coast, north along the railway line. The creeks had been recently dredged – inky black with mud, stacks of reeds on the shore. A dark figure avoided me as we crossed in opposite directions on an unlit bridge – his hoodie pulled low over his head, his backpack strapped close. I walked across the grass to the end of Sandon Point. A piece of seaweed covered driftwood blocked the path down to the beach. I noticed solar garden lights glowing in the sand beneath – purple, red and blue – and a dim shape beside them. A woman’s voice yelled at me, “Fuck off and leave me alone” and “I can see you up there, you bastard”. I briefly considered responding, but thought better of it, turned around and made my way back to the main bike path. Crossing another little bridge near the Bulli Caravan park, two little girls were skipping ahead of their parents. They bravely said hello to me.