Ever have one of those mornings when strange people materialise on your furnishings? I stumbled out of bed this morning at five am so that I could get some marking done before school. After finishing marking a Year 10 class’s test, I realised that I’d forgotten to turn on my music when I sat down at the computer. Winamp winds up and the first guitar strum wails from the speakers, and a strange echo in a montage of moaning and twitching comes back from the other end of the room. I turn around to see a wriggling clump of doona, presumably containing some life form or other, that has taken residence on the futon. I should iron my shirt anyhow, so I turn off the music and pack up the parts of my desk that I’ll need today. When I turn around from switching off the lamp, there is a pair of eyes staring at me from underneath the dark hood of a doona. I put on my boots, and leave the room without a word. I presume that the jawa on my couch is actually Chris’s sister and the two of them got back last night from Singapore, judging from the duty free liquor stacked in the dining room, but there’s no call to make conversation before seven in the morning.