Dingos Surrounded the Baby, but Something Older Watched From the Ridge

What Elsie Remembered

A week after the rain, Elsie began drawing. Circles, always in sevens, with something smaller at the center. Clara watched quietly as she traced the same pattern in the dirt behind the house. When asked what it was, Elsie answered without looking up. “It’s where they talked to me.”

Clara crouched beside her. “What did they say?” Elsie considered the question, then whispered, “To wait until it’s mine.” Clara didn’t press further. “Children remember differently,” Miriam had told her. “She may forget the words, but she won’t forget the rhythm.” Clara tucked that sentence away. It felt like the truest one spoken all month.

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