Tim and Jenny 8

The pile of dead vines piled up at Jenny’s feet. She grit her teeth and ripped another vine down off the fence.  The winter sun was not that strong, but the unaccustomed activity sent sweat down her face.

Tim appeared at the back door and lit a cigarette. He leaned against the doorjamb.

‘You’ve made a mess.’

Jenny stood and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

‘Doesn’t it look better?’

‘I suppose.’ Tim took a long drag then gesticulated to the pile of garden rubbish with the cigarette. ‘What you doing with all that crap?’

Jenny shrugged.

‘Green bin?’

‘We don’t have a green bin.’

‘Normal bin then?’

‘As if. It’s chockas every week.’

Jenny shrugged.

‘I don’t know then.’ She looked over the fence and chuckled. ‘You know, they haven’t started renovating yet.’


‘So.’ Jenny threw a handful of vines over the fence.

Tim took the final drag of his cigarette and butt it out in an overflowing ashtray.

‘You’re really going to do that?’

Jenny grabbed an armful of vines.


‘Really?’ He shook his head and went back inside.

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