December tarpaulins slip off the unused furniture, objects from another time, other lives. Leaf litter thickens against sidewall, damp-coloured wind-dried. Bench upholds half-full tins of the Dulux of yesteryear. Fishing rods, clippers, brooms and brushes lie where they landed. Dust of gumtree grit and crushed leaf sands the concrete floor. Folding chair against folding ladder await further instruction. A new roof keeps the sea rain moving all year. Rocks unrusted serve as retaining wall for The Vehicle. Secreted away until Christmas, a deck-umbrella rests folded and hooded. It’s a bare lightbulb colours their forms when dusk is done and dusted.