Giuseppe closed his eyes and began to recall the story that Bee told him about the cowry shell:
Many years ago, at the dawn of time, there was a young man named Googong. He was a skilled hunter and often went out for days, in search of prey that his tribe could feed on for a long time. Fortunately, his orientation skills were outstanding as well, so he always found his way back easily. However, one day when he was on one of his hunting trips, he was so intent on tracking down a big fat wallaroo in unknown territory, that he lost his bearings.
A story on International Women’s Day 2018 about the power of the feminine
As long as Luna could remember, her mother had been consumed by grief. She knew what caused this, even though her mother never talked about it. Two years ago, when Luna was barely three years old, her father had returned from the civil war. Vividly, she remembered the men of her village in the mountains bringing him home safely. She also remembered her mother screeching when she saw how the regime’s cruelty had traumatized her husband.
Valentine’s Day Story
Longingly, Rhiannon looked over her shoulder in the direction of the village. When she failed to catch a glimpse of her beloved Dewydd on the treeless hillside, she let her head hang and solemnly observed her tears blending with the raindrops on her face and falling on to her muddied sheepskin boots. She swallowed her pride, wiped her emerald eyes and her nose clean with her woollen coat sleeve, and tried to force the painful event that had taken place only half an hour ago to the back of her mind.
Story no. 3 in the Valentine's Day Series
Old man Diego lived in the foothills of a rugged mountain range. The inhabitants of the nearby village knew him to be mean and miserly. What they did not know were the circumstances under which he had found himself all those years ago, before he came from far to live in the little stone house at the foot of the mountain. No one knew how his loved ones had been taken from him and were murdered by the regime. From that grim day on, old man Diego distanced himself from the world and what is more, from his heart. A heart scarred with grief, a heart that slowly forgot how it felt to be kindled by love.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Deborah awoke to the sound of magpies singing in the big red gum behind the house.
“Hmm,” she sighed contentedly, “good morning you guys.”
Unlike many people, she had loved magpies as long as she could remember. She could understand people’s dislike to them in the spring, when they would swoop on passers-by and even peck them. Even so, she believed magpies had a soft spot for her, because she had never been swooped on once. Her mother used to say it was because of her dark hair, as magpies mostly swooped on fair-haired people, but she believed there was something else.