The exception that proves the rule. A blog of short writings from Australia and England.
Thursday, 19 March 2015
We used to run down the backyard with ice-cream buckets on our heads. Frantically ducking and watching our steps. Then we found it, laying on the grass. A naked pink baby, gasping it's last. It's eyes weren't open and it became dead. We never had to wear those buckets again on our heads.