Bronwyn Birdsall

“While she waited for Nedim to say something, Evelyn found an unexpected item in the corner of her coat pocket – a rough, crumbling, dried-up eucalyptus leaf. Her mother had sent it in a letter, along with some articles she’d cut out from an Australian newspaper about mining in north-eastern Bosnia and a drawing by her sister’s younger son. She’d put them all by her bedside and cracked the then-fresh leaf like she used to as a kid, overcome by the rush of familiarity as the scent burst out.”
― Bronwyn Birdsall, Time and Tide in Sarajevo