The yard is a place where all the youngsters gather on Friday nights to meet and listen to music.

The yellow light which washes over the paved land on weeknights now swirls and splashes and whirlpools over hundreds of frantic bodies rocking in erratic circles.

Somewhere in the turbulence is the girl who would make it alright, but like all needles in all haystacks, it will take a while to find her. Toto clutched the neck of his beer tightly and waited. The young are not deterred by concepts such as time. To them eternity is just a vague myth and chance means that anything can happen, even her, at any time at all. He forced a current through the wash and walked forward.

The roving nightlights shoved and nudged and shouldered through the shadows and landed on Irene's cheek and forehead, then they glimmered. And that is when Toto saw her. Bright, and explosive and reckless.

 

After he asked her name and told her his they ceased to speak and only said the things people say at each other in times like these. The words fluttered in the air between them like the sparks of a bonfire. Evidence of something more fearsome burning beneath.

 

Four months later when they said their goodbyes, their resentment for each other was deep.