My One Bright Spot

Abstract

Outside the glass-panelled door standing open to a fine new house on Highlands Avene, Pymble, set proudly on the hillside of a bushland of turpentines, elms, giant gums and great oaks, their leaves turning gold, a trim, pleasant-faced woman in her early fifties stood knocking. No answer. She gave a puzzled look at the young, neatly dressed Aboriginal girl standing beside her, and called into the long, high-ceilinged hallway.