The suburban house stays lifelessly quiet. The wind blows a shuffling curtain and through the broken glass and filtered light briefly enters a former bedroom. The house no longer sits amongst its residential friends as surrounding land use changes. Double storey buildings now peer over and surround the block. Its now a shell of house, empty but filled with the belongings of visitors and squatters. The garden overgrown a shadow of its former glory. The Hills Hoist washing line, an icon of the Australian housing dream without wet clothes it remains motionless.
Standing in the way of progress the house remains temporarily defiant before the inevitable development begins.
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