Title: Optional

Text: Frank Slovak had overturned his tractor onto himself. Not dead, they said, but might as well be. His wife found him, they went on, pausing to let their listener visualise this. Everyone had imagined, sometimes, making that crazed run across the paddocks, faint with whimpering dread, the air sickeningly still over your head like the eye of a storm. Yeah his wife, they said finally, nodding. The quiet one. Each paragraph will be a test.

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