In these small stories, Frankie McMillan balances transgression and wit, showing a cast of unmoored characters with her signature warmth and compassion. Bursts of vivid, poetic writing blur the line between reality and surrealism as she explores all kinds of wandering: children wander, adults drift into unexpected relationships, and footholds can never be certain. Water, too, meanders like a river in the collection, a powerful presence linking disparate lives: the girls raised by swans swim towards what they hope is a better future in the West, a grandmother swims naked in an isolated bush lake, Magdalene’s behaviour on the fishing boat is under scrutiny by her sisters, while the taniwha Kaiwhakaruaki looms over lovers hiding under a wooden dinghy on the beach. In settings as unexpected as a European post-war circus or an inflatable pool in suburban Aotearoa, the enduring bonds of family, real or imagined, take centre stage. Frankie McMillan has given us a collection that is poignant, revelatory, and bitter sweet.