Sometimes when I come forth I take up the whole of a room, like a balloon slotted between ribs and blown up to make a space for breath.
We are in Evie Wyld's precise and unforgiving hands, and she knows exactly where she wants to take us.
An old paddock concealed their small bones: victims of racist child removal policies...
Small wonder her favourite book, one she returns to again and again, features vivid photographs of shark bites.
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