91. when they dropped the farm gate on the baby, during an argument
the wild day tossed up her hair, as she struggled with her husband to lift the faulty gate off the latch, a toddler fumbled around her feet, & a keen red kelpie, glad to be let off the chain, frisked up the stones on the hard ground, they were watched by a few of the sheep, in the paddock closest to the newly-bought house, it was a day when all the land seemed excited with itself, the windy strip of western new south wales whipped around them, as if the area was trying its luck at dispersing the raised & heated voices, the toddler & horseflies continued to absorb the crisis, the stunted gums tolerated it for brief episodes, but would have grown away from the house, over a long period of time, if exposed to this perpetually & often, as they kept arguing & bickering, the space of the surrounding landscape waited patiently for their exhausted arrival, when they dropped the farm gate on the baby, during an argument, everything went quiet for a moment, the mouth of the land turned down around them, the wind could be heard dying out & a few midday birds, giving frequent weather reports, were suddenly interrupted, shaken out of that wasted whirlwind energy that occurs during a long-term fight, that bickering that goes around & around, & finally no one was right or wrong, the child lay pinned beneath the heavy gate, pretty sky blue in the face, his breath now as still & gradual as clouds building up on warm & sluggish inland days, he slowed their arguing right down to the pace of nature, to the size of red ants that scattered with dust on their backs, to the pulse of his heart now fully absorbed by the outdoors, behind the throb of his fractured ribs he lived peacefully unconscious, oohhh the kelpie whined, & a white cockatoo wildly squawking suddenly hit the scene like lightning |
