Straight back on train seat. Reading not working, eyes turn to passing backyards. Two types, roughly. Unlived-in is hard. Brickwork for run-off. Disused basketball hoop. Grassy untrimmed weeds. Clothes hoist and satellite dish, a domestic Jeffrey Smart. Water tank wilderness. Renovated squalor. Concrete block. The lived-in ones, more my thing. Italian orchard with platforms of vegetables. Fence of stratocumulus bougainvillea. Dappled teacups on wrought-iron seat. Sight of the living’s good. Woman on decking looks at her phone for weather. Man ‘waters’ March lemon-tree. Pigeons peck rooftops. Cat paws face. And so back to reading, the thread of the plots, joining.