Imagine being caught in a fire or a flood and leaving yourself there to die. A disaster, my childhood has been destroyed. The last time it happened, there was a nuclear bomb in the loungeroom, glowing softly behind the venetian blinds, cooking the fishtank. You left your handbag on a country train and felt panic, your house keys, wallet and a photograph of your past. Somewhere part of you hurtled south to Colac station.
Mexican wolves take their first steps from the cage.
A wolf pad falls on silent earth. They have been here before. This whole land has old wolf songs stored inside it. It has waited for their come back. They have left the zoo and captive breeding program behind.