Walter Bromley continued to spend every Sunday in the same way, it’s what his beloved Barbara would have wanted. The worn leather chair sighed pleasantly as it welcomed his familiar shape back; he’d spent years making those grooves just right. As their favourite song spun up to speed, the crackle of the worn vinyl kindly invited him to close his eyes; he wilfully accepted. The sweet scent of bush tea folded in to the ambient aroma of paperbark and dry gum leaves; he waited in quiet anticipation to see her smiling face. He knew the image would come and he had all the time in the world to wait.

Artist notes: Walter as been one of my mind friends for many years. I've always found wombats a challenge (they're a bit like Koala's with small ears) and so I'm finally glad to have brought Walter to the page. I feel sorry for his loss but rest assured, he's lived a happy life.