She is kicking at something in the grass, grass halfway up to her knees nearly, knees no doubt as coarse as her bare elbows. Add a few years and she is my mother out in the yard kicking spirits away as she feeds the chickens. Passing, I try not to stare, but I take in a dirty-blonde head and a worn shirt open at a scrawny neck. Beyond, I give her the crazed eyes that dog me from life to life.
Subscribe to get access to all online articles
Already a member?
Sign in to read this article
Digital Subscription
$98/ YR
Get the latest ideas from Australia’s most insightful writers.
- Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
Printed & Digital Subscription
$118/ YR
For avid readers of leading ideas
from Australia’s brightest.
- Printed & Digital Subscription includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- Quadrant Patron includes
- Online editions of Quadrant Magazine
- Printed editions of Quadrant Magazine
- iPad ready PDF
- Access to Quadrant Archives
- All new editions of Quadrant Books
- Exclusive invitations to Quadrant Dinners, book launches and events.