That summer my family broke up I stayed on my aunt’s farm and slept in a bedroom with no curtains. Its wide window faced vast silage fields I couldn’t see; they were invisible in the anonymous darkness of the countryside. I kept a shadeless yellow light on when I couldn’t sleep, and read books my older cousin left there years before: Z for Zachariah and a novelisation of a plot from the soap opera Home and Away. Out in the...
