By the Currawong's Call

by Welton B. Marsland

‘I don’t even know the words for the things I want to do.’

He contemplated the concept of renewal as he walked, and with it, the process of change. The fire—the catalyst for the seismic shift in his friendship with Jonah—had wrought change in Matthew, just as it had here in the landscape. And life felt rejuvenated in its wake. He was much changed by his months in Dinbratten, the months of knowing Jonah.

‘I’m no longer the same man you first met. I’m certainly not the same priest.’ ‘You did bless a Methodist plough,’ Jonah joked dryly.

‘Fuckin’ oath, it does!’