While reading this understated, well-written if not always riveting story, I found myself penciling notes in the inside cover, either pages that capture the "sidestep wolf" well, or just fine imagery, the first on page 4: "The land beyond the rust-riddled sheds was a dirty brown, silver shimmering desert: what grew on it needed no water, and what water fell on it soaked only deep enough to turn the topsoil into slime."
I also greatly appreciate the coinciding of the main character with the thylacine, and how the author leaves the tensions unresolved at the end. Both are individuals scraping by to survive, although their plights are not parallel in any easy, allegorical sense. When Satchel considers his future and the thylacine near the book's end, no neat parallels are made. Satchel creates a bond in his mind with the creature, just as we often do in reality, somewhat arbitrarily but with profound impact on us at the time and perhaps times forthcoming.
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