Acacias, adorned in gold, bob heavy heads to a koolbardi’s caroling call. A raven, scratching at freshly turned soil, unearths Marco’s watch. The koolbardi swoops, screeching. A clash of beaks. A storm of feathers.


Gingerly, Gina grabs her shovel.

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11 Comments on “Unearthed”

    • Thank you, Myna. I love acacias — they’re such impossible and jolly flowers. I quite literally witnessed the storm of feathers while taking my dog for a walk. Given the volume of feathers I’d expected to see bald birds, but the two very unhappy birds shrieking at each other looked fully clothed.

    • Thank you! Omg, the magpies have started their shenanigans on this side of the continent already! I love them so much, but yikes those beaks are sharp.

  1. I loved the links, especially the origin story. As for the story itself, this is so vivid I can see it happening. I’m left wondering if the birds will be buried along with Marco.

    • Oh yay! I’m glad you followed the links. There’s so much rich cultural heritage that we know so little about, and I adore magpies. They really do strut about like boastful little birds.

  2. I love the emotion in this piece. It’s subtle and still somehow hit me over the head at the same time. I second Margaret’s comment on the origin story – reading that added another layer to this.

    • Thank you! I’m really pleased you got the violence here. I wondered if I’d been a bit too coy about it, so this is reassuring. I’m especially happy that I get to share some of the rich cultural history of the land I live on.

  3. This is so beautifully sinister. I love the way you give “Silence” it’s own line. It acts like punctuation.

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