The budgie jumps from one perch to the other & back again roughly twice every second clink clink clink clink This tired old father is washing up again & as the dishes battle their way to the surface a howling rain outside makes it like the house is slowly being dragged through a car wash. The crying baby next door is eroding the brickwork, mortar now dissolving in the torrent like we're living in a sandcastle. Dad the Mad washing washing & clink clink clink. She points out that children reach an age when they're no longer most likely to be victims & become probable offender. So tiny/fierce the slash of skinny arms like swords through the room. She says she is now Murder Girl & spoils the effect by laughing into her juice thereby silencing the bird drowning out the baby outshining the dishes & cementing the moment. The much loved sometimes serious always dangerous Murder Girl.