Fortune…Fate…Faith

Upon my return, I noticed Dad tinkering with the pipeline. Good fortune for the cattle, I suppose.
‘Hey, Dad!’ I announced. ‘I found this fantastic water-hole.’

The boys returned.
‘Hey,’ I shouted, ‘Guess what I found!’
C1 galloped ahead and into camp, a grin spread across his bearded face. He ignored my announcement of good fortune. ‘Look what we’ve got?’

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STORY BEHIND THE PAINTING (6)

My brother sprinted up through a gap in the boulders. We waited for his return and signal to proceed.
The wind whistled through the alley of cliffs. I looked through the crevice between the rocks. No sign of my brother.
‘I hope he’s alright,’ I said.
More minutes passed. We sat poised to move at any moment as if sitting on spinifex, yet we remained calm, mesmerized by the emptiness of the landscape, and the silence.
I looked through the gap again and asked, ‘What’s taking him so long?’ Then I slumped onto a large stone. Visions of my brother falling off the cliff plagued my imagination.

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LOST WORLD OF THE WENDS (6)

Friedrich pressed the button to see if the box would light up the white tree trunk with English words, but all it did was go “click” and flash in his face, blinding him for a moment.
As the green spotted blindness wore off, he heard another click and something cold and hard on his ear. ‘Stealing is verboten.’ A voice spelt out in measured words.

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FLIES

Clear skies this morning, yet the temperature soared; the air thick with flies even at 9:00am. We moped around the campsite like slugs with heat-stroke. My brother sat on his inflatable mattress. He clapped, accumulating a mass-grave of fly corpses. At the other end of the campsite, as far away as possible from the serial fly mass-murderer, I ate my porridge. Every spoonful I took, he made a slap and a body count. What’s that? A raisin? Ugh! Flies congregated on my spoon. I can’t take this anymore.

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LOST WORLD OF THE WENDS (5)

Scanning the grove of gum trees, she expected the aroma of kangaroo roast to greet her. There was none. Cattle scarpered upon her approach. Dust lingered in her nostrils. She could hear a bull grunting at the edge of the clearing.
‘Dad!’ she called in a sing-song voice.
No answer.
‘Adam!’
Nothing! Not even an annoying whistle.
‘Walter?’ Now she was getting desperate.

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