“And?”“Have you found a kahuna? A guru? A guide?”“No. Though I have had several – uh – strange experiences.”“Strange?” echoed Sara....“Well, I had several dreams that seemed Bunjil-inspired. And the flight from Coober to Marla was dreamt.”“Mmm.”“Then I had a talk about caste/sect/totem lines in Marla. And one in William Creek. And then I met a young woman from the right line in Marree.”“I knew we’d get the dirt on sex!” Sarah interjected.“No. Not there. There was a woman near Nildottie and one in. He is an old-school generational farmer, a tenth son of a tenth son, made to withstand the constant unreason of crop, weather, animal, food politics and the predations of supermarkets that charge more for water than for milk. The elements will not weather this man. He is a human crag who adapts to them instead of being worn away. His face is unexpectedly smooth, but ruddy and with deep creases around the eyes. His hair is probably still thick, only he shaves it to a stubble. His eyes are the. More

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