He straightened and looked about, vaguely wondering just how long he'd been sitting there. Judging by the stiffness and the dents his elbows had left above his knees, quite some time. His eyes wandered to the little coloured box sitting beside him all bright and shiny with fancy ribbons and everything and the tears started to flow and the hole in his life was as big as the open cut at Kalgoorlie.

Fifteen years he'd spent living in dusty outback huts and tents, driving beat up utes to places not marked on maps looking for the signs. Swearing at the latest advances in telecommunications that supposedly made contact clear and simple and yes there is a signal there... my arse. Testing and writing evaluations, then moving on to the next site. Then he'd been bumped to management and had to wear a bloody shirt and tie. Shirt was okay but a fuckin' tie? The most useless piece of clothing ever thought of and guaranteed to make you uncomfortable.

The price of success she'd smile at him and tell him he looked so handsome and he'd melt and would wear a bloody lead one with a silly pattern on it if she asked.

Jenny. He was suddenly on a deep mine cage lift and his stomach lurched at plummeting gravity. Or lack of it maybe... maybe he'd just float away.

One year, the anniversary and if he still felt uncomfortable, a fake in city clothes, the posh office with views to the harbour, she thrived. No dust and the chance to wear some nice clothes and have a circle of friends, normal hours. Every morning she'd adjust his tie and smile and give a small little kiss to send him on his way as she finished up to head off herself. Now that... that was no fake and his belly lurched again. More gold in a simple touch than came out of that bloody big hole in the ground, ever.

He looked about once more this time seeing his surrounds. The Hospital behind him, the one way street in front and the little park opposite with the fenced off bandstand come café. Idly wondered how long it had been closed off. He watched almost dream like as a girl, tall and obviously at the tag end of a long night out stumbled across the park, across the street toward him and down the driveway to his right, the emergency entrance. Steady drips of blood from assorted cuts, her lip and above her eye most obvious and he figured other injuries not readily visible. They pulled at him in a simple she needs help way, but he just watched and he wasn't at all sure she'd even seen him. She did shudder and flinch at a drunken shout that followed her across the park as she hit the road... 'fuckin' pooftah bitch'..., which didn't make much sense but...

Still he didn't move, didn't offer to help, he wasn't sure he belonged a part of the human race any more.

Hell why don't you just walk away, leave the little box here, maybe someone will take it. Then an image of a bomb squad robot wobbling up to put a rifle shot through it after someone called in a left package. Bloody modern paranoia, Christ what a world, but he sighed and sat and almost grinned at the absurd vision. Did they even have those robots here? He looked at the small box and felt the tears again and his eyes burned. Shit when did you last cry Stevo you big ugly bastard.

The day was done and everyone was heading home or out to wherever. He'd sent flowers that morning and they'd chatted on the mobiles after she'd got them and called to say thanks and how much she was looking forward...

His mind blanked for a moment and he noticed the girl had disappeared inside and he hoped she was okay. Another siren and lights ambulance turned into the entrance about fifty metres down on his right and he wondered what disaster and pain was inside and felt a little sad that he didn't really care.

She was looking forward to a lovely romantic evening with her Steven, her big quiet hero. He felt himself blush, how long ago was that? A lifetime... No, his watch told him it was seven hours. Her voice brushed his soul and caused a twitch as he stood there looking out the window and smiling at the ridiculousness of someone like her marrying a lump like him. Damn, such things didn't happen and yet it had. So they'd meet up downstairs she'd buzz him when she'd gotten into the city and parked at the station down the road and they'd walk down to Darling Harbour and have a wonderful seafood dinner looking at the bay and the lights and the people.

It was later than he'd expected when his phone rattled and buzzed as it moved about on his desk, he'd laughed at the silliness of it, almost like a kids toy. Saw 'Jen' on the display and pushed the slide... hey hon... But it wasn't her honeyed voice, it was a dull monotone man.

"Steven Walsh?... Mr Walsh, is your wife Jenny Walsh and does she drive a pale blue Volvo coupe?"

"What? Who is this?"

"Mr Walsh my name is Andrew Tontini, I'm a Sergeant with the Accident Investigation Unit, your wife..."

He'd heard what the man said, well he must have as a minute or two later once he could move he'd sprinted down stairs, though the lift was probably quicker yet he had to keep moving, if he stopped it would be real. It was a mistake, it had to be...

A taxi frantically hailed, he sat in the back and fingered his phone willing it to ring and her voice to be there. The trip through the city and up Oxford Street took forever, yet his watch crawled or ticked it's way around the dial and it was fifteen minutes and looped around to drop him right at the door, he'd tossed a fifty for a ten dollar fair and bolted.

He was amazed that the nurse behind the small window could make sense of what he said but she did and a few minutes later she escorted him to a door that swung open and a young Irish guy met him to rattle off… he didn't recall a word. He registered the boss man watching with his seen it all yet still caring eyes, hell every time hospitals got mentioned on the news they spoke to this guy, maybe he lived here.

There was blood and tubes and various machine noises and nurses both male and female in green scrubs checking and looking at things and two others with gowns tossed over suits hovering in the background like embarrassed ghouls as he shook his head and looked. Yes it was her, that lovely auburn tinted brown hair and the soft smooth cheek as his thumb traced her left eyebrow. His eyes flicked to the right side.

He couldn't see much at all. Bandages and the shape seemed wrong and he felt fear bite him hard. A uniformed cop hovered in the background and no one would meet his eyes.

The green clad women ghoul stepped forward and took his arm very gently and steered him to a chair across the room as the Irish kid stood and several nurses waited quietly pointedly looking not quite at him.

She spoke softly and steadily. The only one there seemingly with a purpose just this minute. A clipboard full of forms held at her side.

The Harbour Tunnel... But she never took the tunnel, hated it, preferred to see out, the sky and city and harbour off the bridge... but the traffic... and... she had. Two cars full of High School kids weaving and dodging had clipped and crashed, there were injuries but nothing serious. But she had been caught, bumped and spun into a tow truck.

The next half hour was a dull ache of words and explanations. She had signed on the organ donor register and he'd nodded, he'd known that, yet... If they turned things off she was gone, but others could benefit, she could help others to live and that was a great gift. Do you understand they had asked and he'd sat and cried and she had touched his hand with eyes showing understanding but a desire to do what Jenny had wanted, to do her job. He'd sighed so deep and long it seemed unnatural, then nodded and she'd thanked him softly with a squeeze and then a flurry of movement as he was directed to a small room and given the clipboard and pen and she came back some minutes later minus the gown. The next... block of time, he had no reference to say how long... he filled out and signed and numbly pondered scenes from CSI or Silent Witness.

She, Doctor Helen... something Greek he thought but couldn't remember but he had her card in his shirt pocket, had brought him a coffee and a sandwich and sat quietly as he signed his wifes pieces away. Did it help that others might see or breathe or have a heart that beat regularly or a liver that worked? No, it didn't, but they had in that responsible knowing it would never matter type way, talked about it. And so it goes... she goes, she's gone... in pieces, as part of others soon if not already. Did that mean she lived on? Not to him it didn't. But what benefit to shove in the ground or burn. Did the shell matter once the life had gone? The soul maybe if you believed in that. The energy that was, dispersed like steam from a boiled kettle, back into the air, droplets in an ocean on a planet a microbe in the universe. Did it matter at all? Humanity or something bigger, something beyond? Who the hell knows?

Hours... five he thought later he had walked out and sat on the bench and all that time he had held onto the little box. Why had he grabbed that as he raced for the stairs? A gift box of chocolate liqueur truffles. Something to go with the champagne after dinner, her favourite guilty treat. He pictured as she gently lipped and then with a twinkle in her eye bit slowly into the dark balls and moaned softly as the luscious filling flowed out and trickled across her tongue. A sensual and warm memory that was all he had left. God how can you think of sex just now you heartless bastard and his arousal shrivelled as icy self-disgust made him groan aloud. He shuffled and stood realising he was numb and glancing at his watch realised another four hours had passed. A stumbled step or two to see if his legs worked...

"Hey. Excuse me, are you okay, you left..."

It was her, the girl he'd seen earlier. Bruises now showing and bandages on wrist and calf a couple of little butterfly patches on eyebrow and cheek. Brownish stains of antiseptic on puffy lips and grazed jaw. She shuffled nervously as he gazed at her silently and took in the adams apple and slightly gangly build. Huh.

"Sorry, my... um, I'm not quite with it at the moment. Would you like them, I don't think I'll ever eat one again."

She looked at him sadly, compassion evident even though he'd ignored her earlier and that made him stand straighter and even smile slightly.

"I've had a bad night or... well I've lost... ah I dunno. But then I guess you've had better too."

She stepped forward with a sad look in her eyes and took his hand. "Yes I know. I was about to leave when I saw you there and I went back in and told the duty nurse that you'd been sitting there when I came in and that was hours ago. She came out and looked at you and sighed and told me what happened. Muttered that she hoped the psyches had cleared you to leave alone."

"Hey I'm sorry I ignored you earlier. I... well I wasn't quite here or I'd have helped, at least to get you inside. "

"I understand, really it's okay. But... um I need to walk back home as my bag disappeared last night and I can't get a cab. If you don't mind a slow walk I'd really appreciate the company."

He looked this girl up and down and saw the slight fear and the tensing as she expected him to say no. Maybe worse and he sighed at this small hurt. The sun was tickling the sky in the distance and he felt... what a need to feel and breathe and even a small thing as easing the fear of a stranger might help. Jenny would smile and nod he knew.

"Well my bums numb and I can barely walk but I need to so I'd be happy to. Let me buy you breakfast huh, I missed dinner. Probably better than getting drunk for three days. Sorry that was... "

"That's okay I know what you meant. Really, you'd buy me breakfast? Um sure I'd love that but are you sure I mean you must be hurting and I'm well..."

"You're a person that's hurt and a little scared and a small gesture from me will help us both and I'd appreciate the company. Steve, Steve Walsh, nice to meet you." He held out his hand and she took it with a shy smile and shook it gently.

"Nice to meet you Steve. I'm Kate, Katie Simmons, thanks I'd love to share brekky with you. Just nothing acid huh." She licked her lip wincing slightly and he smiled softly at the simple gesture. A shrug and move on to all the crap that might happen or had and would and you couldn't know or do anything about it. Except live.

He leant forward to pick up the box and handed it to her. "Maybe wait a day or so huh. The alcohol in those might sting just now."

"Yeah, thanks. What was her name, your wife? I can't imagine... but I can see what you feel for her and she must have been something to deserve that. I'll say a little prayer for her and for you. Good people."

He felt tears again and sighed and shook his head gently at her distress to see what her words had caused.

"Jenny and she'd smile at this scene. Much better person than me, so I have to try harder. Okay Katie let's get breakfast."

He held out his hand and she gingerly took it with her right, clutching the gift box in her left and they limped across the road toward the path across the park and the city beyond. Birds could be heard as dawn began to creep across the sky after the brief flirtation earlier.

And so it goes... life is what we have. Small is big and simple is not, the sun still rises even when we maybe briefly wish it wouldn't. Even a small connection can make that a good thing. And so it goes...