23 June AM

Scene: Drysdale Street, early-ish morning. The air is still cool, like the updraft from an open cornershop freezer compartment. The light promises a plesant evening for drinking in the street outside after work.

A lone woman walks West, passed on the opposite site of the street by a silent young boy (7) in non-descript uniform, eating non-descript convenience breakfast food. Behind a younger girl (5) with long blonde hair, a stride and a half - approximately longer than an adult's arm length - behind a slightly bedraggles middle-aged man, holding her hand.

Girl: [incomprehensible]
Father: "Oh Alice you're talking about nothing. It's total rubbish"

What did he expect? A pith summation of commentary on the current prescient political topics? She is a CHILD, she is SPEAKING, conveying thoughts to you using abstract audio symbols. This to me is miracle enough.