KASE STUDY 

By Tessa Harvey

    It had been wrinkled when they had first plastered it to the wall. Uncertain, they had gone to bed. In the morning, it had smoothed out perfectly. The hand of God marvelled Belle, tousled and sleepy, dark hair unbrushed, patches fluffed or flattened in sleep. 

    Disheveled from a restless night, Kase reached out for her hand and gazed at the lovely picture.

    Belle helped him to a soft lounge chair. Riba raised her head  from her large luxurious dog basket near the fire. She looked at them both hopefully. "Out first, Riba, then food." Obediently, the kelpie stiffly stood and stretched, then headed for the door.

    Belle opened it to the sunlight streaming through the new glass windows. The whole family had helped build this place. Willow, the eldest grandchild slid on the plastic wrapped pink batts with her siblings.

    Felix crept as quietly as he could back from the big long-beamed lounge to the back door, leaving Silver and Willow playing some sort of competitive game, huddled on the old grey carpet near the open log fire.

    Mum and dad had been fighting again last night, hissing and roaring quietly at each other. They were still asleep in a tangle of bedding and littered clothes, their door left part open for warmth.

    The little boy crept like a cat through the door, holding the latch so it did not creak or click. He shut it softly, at once shivering in the frosty air. He ran over the wooden bridge. The paddocks were frost-white.

    Nana and Pops had told him the deep dry ditch sometimes flooded, but it had been dry for weeks, and weeks and weeks.

    Riba scented him and bounded over. Felix pretended to bounce like a cat, stiffly-legged, funny. Pops had told him Felix was the name of a very famous cat.