Jim Shepard
By the time Gladys May Sparks dropped her soaked leather portmanteaus on the veranda of her new home in Barrow Point, Queensland, the rain had started to come down very heavy. Her new husband, Tommy, busied himself with a welcoming pot of tea and she remained where he’d left her, a puddle spreading around her feet. It seemed unlikely that a single item inside the portmanteaus was still dry. Her first impression was of a place where everything was covered with vines, including the two cane chairs and the breakfast table and the hammock, and out front she noted a mandarin orange tree and a prickly pear hedge. The rain was now so heavy the mud was strewn with . . .
