Sheep

A small lamb stands in the corner, soft as a lullaby. Behind it the flock dreams of being something older: horns bent like old pipes, eyes like buttons sewn on in the dark, a body stitched from fleece and bone. Sheep clothed civilisations and built a country at the bottom of the world. Under the wool, though, there’s still a wild thing waiting. They had no names, but they escaped through the fence and into the bush behind.