~ 8 ~
The Chooks‘He’s only seven years old,’ Cassie’s father says.
The car rumbles through the darkness as the gravel road spits rocks into the windy night. Cassie moves closer to Poppy, trying to cut out the conversation and sleep. The fireworks still boom and sparkle in her head and her body still spins on the show rides.
‘Look at it this way,’ Poppy begins again, ‘if he’s wrong and I’m wrong there’ll be feed around and the herd will rebuild. We’ll have both incomes. Diversity’s what they’re all talking about these days.’
‘We’ve spent a lot of time and money building that herd.’ Her father taps the steering wheel as he speaks. ‘They’re good stock. We’re starting to get a name for them. We could lose everything.’
‘They are good stock. We’ve had a couple of good seasons, prices are up
