Stay home save lives. That's what they told us. So that's what we did. Well most of us anyway. The start of lockdown was a subdued haze. The days blurring into one another, politicians sneaking around like children on Christmas Eve. Social distanced walks. A fresh new horror in the news everyday. Then there was the excitement of online schooling which soon like everything else in lockdown became the new normal. Then, my sister and I going down to the end of the garden, began to hear noises. The end of our garden was wild full of towering weeds and sadistic nettles. The one place left untouched by the productive boredom of lockdown. The noises were quieter at first and then grew louder. Yells, snorts and yelps. Peering through the thin gap in our fence and into the alien fields beyond, we could spy a small group of boys between around 18-23 camping in the field. It was as if an atomic bomb had dropped. After some discreet spying through our fence we began to conspire. Why were they here? Were they allowed to be here? Who knew they were here? Inching closer towards the gap in the fence we could see their tent. It was a tiny bedraggled thing strung weakly on a wobbling wooden pole. There were moth eaten deckchairs just outside the tent surrounding a faintly glowing bonfire. Peeking into the field was a strange thing it felt as if we were the intruders in our own garden. After deliberating in hushed tones about who we would tell. We decided it would be our lockdown secret. It wasn't as if they were doing anything that bad. Now I feel guilty about not telling anyone but it did no harm. We would run down to the end of the garden, throwing leaves through the gap at the tent if the boys weren't there and if they were we would try to make our conversations loud so that they would hear us and decide to leave. Then one day they did. All that was left was an empty packet of cigarettes and the patch of grass where the bonfire had once been. It had felt like an adventure despite being so trivial it had quenched our thirst for excitement for the time being, soon things began to become dull again and the weather worsened our badminton racquets and cricket bats grew idle. The cacophony of traffic outside seemed to intensify as people began to return back to their jobs or school. Online schooling commenced again and little by little ordinary life began to creep back in.