She looks out of her window into the backyard where her mother's parsley and the orange marigolds grow. The lawn needs mowing. Katherine focuses on two kookaburras perched on the washing line. Laugh kookaburras, laugh. Please laugh. It's as if the plain grey and white birds hear her and suddenly start laughing and playing on the washing line pegged with sheets and rachel's white shorts. The birds laugh and laugh until their long triangular beaks look like smiles and their ordinary feathers sparkle. You're beautiful. Beautiful.