They walk on the crunch of gravel and shells. There are voices from the marae, kids and grownups all outside and inside and the noise of them carrying on the still-warm night air. To the left of them is the sea, flat, like a lying down window. Dark like a window at bedtime, with only the night and the moon through it.
A girl walks with her father at night to watch stingrays in the bay.
‘Yargnits’ appeared in New Zealand Listener (August 20 2005) (read ‘Yargnits’ online)
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