8 things that happen in the night

1. Animals. They disco on roofs of tin. They scamper along fences, waltz along tree limbs, and fall out of bushes that look deceptively sturdy. Some have the ability to traipse walls and some fly. Some, however, are less fortunate. They seize the room, and appear, at first, to have conquered. They circulate like specks of dust in the air, but are swiftly punished. If not before pilfering human blood, always immediately after. They are smacked flat into a human palm. They are slapped and squashed and dragged down a wall, across a bench. I would like to ask them, perchance they should learn English, just whether it is worth it. Perhaps I would suggest to them that they must evolve into possums or bats if they are to look forward to things like retirement villages and hovercraft transport vehicles.

2. Candles. The yellow glow is gentle on the skin. This I enjoy.

3. Stars. Travel to Dalby or even further to Warra if you’re game. Take a look at the silken sky and count the lights that twinkle. Record the tally in a diary, as proof that you have read this list and followed my instructions. What’s that? You can’t? Well, fool, I tricked you, I did. In Dalby, there are too many stars for anyone to count. They fall and grow and shine as they please and all we can do is shout to their spangled splendour. Now shout, fool, shout!

4. Red paint. In the night time, we put on our shoes and out we go. We carry brushes in our handbags and helpings of paint in tiny silver canisters. We are artists and have access to brick walls, pavements, park benches and alleyways. We paint them all. The music plays.

5. Specials. If you take great pleasure in marked-down food items, you’ll agree that night is a special time. Chew grass, swallow paper, do whatever you can to stave off hunger and head to the store in its later hours of opening. You may just get a whole year’s worth of chocolate milk for a dollar. The only downside is that you will have to drink it in two days. Before it curdles and sours and potentially kills you.

6. Cicadas. We do not see them, just hear them. And we only hear them in the early evening, in the twilight. This is the time between day and night and if you’re quiet and move on your tiptoes you can slip into the gap and take a moment for yourself. As the afternoon draws to a close, keep your ears open, as the onset of the cicada chorus will provide an appropriate introduction to what is the perfect time to read or nap. If you do happen to see the cicadas, particularly if in a swarm or plague, then you must run and do it quickly.

7. Sleep. Comes easily. We nestle and snooze. We don’t want to be woken by insects, alarms, raw sunlight cascading through the window. We only want the sky to grow darker and to continue to sleep. We do not want to pee. We want to sleep.

8. Dreams. They follow. In the morning are gone.