Flying Space Junk, Motherhood and Fear

When I was a child we lived in country NSW. During school holidays my older sister and I would travel to Sydney by train, unaccompanied, to be met by our grandmother at the other end. On the return journey the reverse would happen. This started when I was quite young, eight years old or so, and my sister eleven. The trip was a long one, close to eight hours, and I’d pass the time reading and daydreaming. I remember feeling terribly grown up as I made my purchases from the food trolley that trundled up and down the corridors of that train. Recently I had to dispatch my middle son on a similar journey.