It’s time to collectively let go of the mythicised version of the man and his deeds.
The end of a jetty is a nowhere place; no longer on land but not quite at sea. With a glance in the right direction, even time vanishes. Is that a ship on the horizon? White sails catching the winds. Matthew Flinders on deck, scanning distant land. There’s a whiff of smoke blending with the aroma of salty air. Looking back towards the shore, shadowy figures cook fish in coals, while children search rock pools for mussels. Imagination runs wild in nowhere places.
This review was originally published in Meanjin, Winter 2019 edition As some recently published works have shown, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander storytellers are continuing
Written by Karen Wyld, this short story was first published in Meanjin Spring 2018 *Content warning: This piece contains archaic terms that are now considered
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Next week, an excerpt of the manuscript I’ve been writing will be sent to a number of agents and Australian publishers. I’m aware that I