AustLit

'Every time I go for a walk in Turkey I see a dead thing: a blob of a baby mouse, its entrails rusting to the steel railing; a waterrat with wet fur in spikey clumps, tail rotted; a ginger cat in the grass, one of its legs chewed off. I could take these as signs and hurry back to the pristine apartment I'm staying in where my two daughters are watching The Disney Channel. But signs of what?' (Publication abstract)